To the Victor Go the Spoils
by Ladymage Samiko
Summary: Sarah wakes up the morning after the Labyrinth to find that she's not only won Toby, she's won Jareth, too! finished
1. Good Morning, Your Majesty!

My first Labyrinth fic. I hope you enjoy! Just remember I don't own 

Labyrinth or any of the characters. R&R, please!

Ladymage Samiko ;)

ladymage@ mailcity.com

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Ladymage Samiko

Part 1

Sarah woke slowly, the sunlight playing hell with her eyes as she 

opened them warily. That had been some party last night with Hoggle and 

Ludo and the others. She was just glad no one had brought alcohol. The girl sat 

up, clutching her head, and looked around her room. Miraculously, it was 

clean. 

Then she saw the Goblin King sitting at her vanity.

She screamed bloody murder and quickly scooted back against the 

headboard.

"Sarah?" her father called. "Sarah, honey, are you all right?"

Sarah watched the Goblin King closely as she tried to answer her 

father. He merely raised an eyebrow and smirked as she stuttered, "F-Fine! 

I'm fine, Dad! I was-uh-I was having a nightmare!"

"Okay, dear." Sarah listened to his footsteps retreat down the hall, 

then turned to the still smirking king. "Dammit, what in the hell are you doing 

here?" she hissed. "I played your game and I won. Go away!"

"I can't do that, Sarah," he said evenly. "As I told you before, what's 

said is said. You played my game and you won. And to the victor go the 

spoils."

"What is that supposed to mean, Jareth?" she asked suspiciously. "I 

got Toby back; he was the 'prize' in your game, wasn't he?"

"You still don't trust me, do you, Sarah?"

"Am I supposed to?" she shot back. "You've made me go to Hell and 

back. You've lied and deceived me at every turn. And all this is is a _game_ to 

you!"

His eyes flashed fire and ice. "I have never lied to you, Sarah." Even 

his voice was icy. "I did as you asked. You are the one who refuses to take the 

responsibility for your own actions." Just as quickly, his temper cooled. "And 

why shouldn't it be a game? Can't you see how amusing mortals really are?"

"I don't think there was anything funny about last night."

"Such a pity," he murmured. "And you showed such promise." His 

eyes swept up and down her form. Sarah was _very_ glad she had gone to bed 

in her clothes. It would be impossible to face the Goblin King in her pajamas!

"Well?" she asked belligerently. "What do you want? Just tell me so I 

can get on with my life."

"I am here to wish you very good tidings and a long reign, Your 

Majesty," the king replied, sweeping into a low bow.

Her legs collapsed under her, sending her back to her mattress with a 

thump. "_Excuse_ me?"

Jareth's eyes twinkled. "You defeated me in my own kingdom. By law, 

that makes me your vassal and you, technically, are Queen of the Underground. 

Therefore, Long Live the Queen. I am at your service, my lady." Sarah simply 

gaped.

"Sarah!" came her stepmother's harsh voice from the other side of 

her bedroom door. "Get out here this instant! You have chores to do, young 

lady!"

Jareth turned to face the door with a scowl, but before he could do more 

than lift his hand, Sarah grabbed his arm. "Don't you dare!" she whispered. 

"I'd love it, but don't even think about it!" To her utter surprise, Jareth lowered 

his hand, grumbling.

"Oh, very well. As Your Majesty commands," he said reluctantly. 

"Before I forget, though... Catch!" He tossed a Crystal at her, which she 

caught instinctively. "The Key to the Kingdom, fair one. Try not to lose it."

"Is there anywhere I should keep it?" Sarah asked nervously. She 

hadn't been in charge of her own life, let alone an entire kingdom!

"You have the power," Jareth replied, making and unmaking a Crystal 

of his own to demonstrate. "Just put it away."

Sarah tried several times. "I can't." The man sighed in exasperation, 

causing the jabot of lace at his throat to quiver. Crossing over to her, he pressed 

against her front to back, taking hold of her wrists. She jerked away in 

surprise.

"I'm only trying to help, Sarah." He hadn't let go of her wrists. "Just 

relax. Let me control the power through you." Strangely, she did as he asked, 

closing her eyes to help herself concentrate. She shivered as she felt his 

gloved fingers slide up her wrist to interlace with her own. Stop that! she 

told herself sternly.

"Now feel the strength within you," he murmured in her ear. "Feel for 

the space outside of time. And make the two one." Sarah shivered again as 

she could feel him delve into her being, pulling at something she never knew 

existed there, drawing it out to their fingers. Then she knew--though she 

couldn't see--that just in front of her was a tiny pocket of unbeing, the space 

between one moment and the next. Together, the pair slipped the Crystal into 

it.

Sarah opened her eyes and turned to face him, face flushed. "That 

was incredible! I never knew I could do that!"

He watched her intently, seeing the joy in her smile. "So beautiful," 

he whispered to himself. "And so cruel."

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A few moments later, Sarah was darting down the stairs. She had 

told the Goblin King to stay put and stay out of her stuff while she dealt with 

her parents. Oddly enough, it seemed he was actually prepared--though 

obviously not happy--to do as she wished. The girl puzzled over it as she 

walked into the kitchen.

"Well, finally!" snapped Karen. "I'm glad you've decided to join the 

rest of the world, Your Ladyship! Some of us _do_ have to work, you know."

Sarah sighed inwardly, knowing she get a tongue-lashing if her 

stepmother heard her. "So what do I have to do today?" she asked.

Karen finished fussing with her purse before answering. "Your father 

and I are going into town today to do some errands. I expect you to keep an eye 

on Toby, of course, and the laundry needs to be done. Also, the living room needs 

to be cleaned for the party tonight. I expect it to be finished by the time we get 

back."

"Yes, ma'am!" Sarah gave her a sharp salute and brought her heels 

together. The older woman rolled her eyes.

"You need to take your responsibilities seriously, Sarah! Honestly! I 

won't have my friends think I'm raising a total incompetent. So try to act like 

an adult tonight. If it's not too much for you," she added spitefully before 

stalking out the kitchen door.

"Bitch," Sarah told the closed door.


	2. Hungry?

Just a note: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters. Besides, even if I was sued, I only have a few bucks in my wallet anyway.

Have fun!

Ladymage Samiko ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils ~ Part 2

Hungry?

Sarah made herself a quick breakfast and ate it before a belated idea and an irritating sense of courtesy got the better of her. She ran up to her room and opened the door to find the Goblin King sitting at her window. She had to admit, she had more or less expected him to be gone.

"Um," she began nervously. "Um, Jareth? Are you hungry?" He looked surprised. Sarah wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

"You know," he commented thoughtfully, "Fae don't usually get hungry. But now that you ask, I'm starved." He smiled brilliantly. Sarah blinked.

"Uh, okay. Well, I guess you can come on down, then. My parents are gone for the day--"

"Leaving you to deal with that brat next door and a load of housework, too, I would wager." He sounded almost angry, she thought.

"How did you--?"

"My dear Sarah," he interrupted smoothly, "you should know I've been watching you for quite some time. And your 'parents' are very predictable people."

"Oh. Well, are you coming or not?" Sarah turned and ran down the stairs before the implications of "watching" could fully hit her. "What do you want to eat?" she called back up as Jareth made his more sober progress to the kitchen.

"I,uh..." Was that red on his cheeks?

"You have five seconds, Jareth, before the kitchen closes."

"I don't suppose you would have a hamburger lying around anywhere, would you?" The Goblin King was definitely blushing as the words came tumbling out of his mouth.

"A hamburger!?"

"Look," he said defensively. "Do you know how hard it is to get beef in the Underground? I mean, honest to goodness, real Grade A beef? It's impossible! I can't even be sure that what I get might possibly have been beef at some point in its lifetime! So just tell me, Sarah, is there a place I can get a hamburger with everything on it?"

She stared at him, slack-jawed. A Fae King, ruler of the entire Underground, Lord You-Play-By-My-Rules, was practically begging for a plain, old-fashioned hamburger. Sarah felt this was something she could use to her advantage. But how?

Blinking back into focus, she realized she already had used it. Her pause was starting to (figuratively) make him sweat. He looked at her pleadingly.

"I'll make you a deal," she said finally. Jareth looked dubious. "I tell you where, you get us there. I buy you the burger, you tell me everything--and I mean everything--about why you're here and what my being Queen means."

He looked relieved--and somewhat admiring. "That's the girl I know! It's a deal."

Sarah checked on Toby, who looked to be sleeping, then directed him to a small restaurant far enough from where she lived that she wouldn't be recognized. After all, walking around with an older man wearing extremely tight breeches, lace, and hair that would put every 80s pop star to shame wasn't exactly good for her reputation. What exactly it would do to it, Sarah wasn't sure, but it probably wouldn't be good.

Jareth watched their hamburgers arrive with near worship on his face. Still, Sarah noticed, he ate with impeccable manners. Shrugging, she applied herself to her own meal.

The man finished, looking undeniably satisfied and customarily smug. "Do you know," he commented, "that the last burger I had was forty years ago?"

Sarah blinked. "I'm not surprised," she answered. "Given your castle and your servants, I'm surprised you would anything in the Underground!"

"True," he mused. "Having those filthy little buggers roaming around the floor does tend to ruin one's appetite. Well!" he continued, rising smoothly from his chair. "Shall we go have that little discussion you wanted?"

She nodded and tossed a few bills on the table. Jareth didn't appear to do anything, but the two immediately found themselves back in Sarah's kitchen. The girl gestured to the table and chairs next to them. "All right. Let's hear the full truth, Jareth, if you can."

The conversation was long and involuted, with quite a few complicated points that took Sarah some time to decipher, especially given the Goblin King's method of exposition. The important points were:

1) By defeating Jareth, Sarah had won a type of Fae "duel," for lack of a better term.

2) She had proven herself, thereby, "superior" to the Goblin King and now became his Overlord, as well as a subject of the High Fae.

3) She had, by default, been given certain Fae powers.

4) She was now acting Goblin Queen, unless she chose to reinstate Jareth in the position.

5) If she did, she had the power to revoke his position at any time, unless she made it a binding contract, which he would have to break to be taken from power.

6) She could not fault Jareth if he "misinterpreted" her orders. In other words, if he twisted her orders to suit himself, she couldn't do anything to him unless it was a against her exact words.

7) There were some things even an Overlord didn't mess with.

"Okay," Sarah concluded. "So, basically, we're working on a feudal system here, where I can give you power under certain conditions and you're bound to do as I say. Of course, I know if you can find a loop hole in my orders, you will, so I have to make any order I give you as clear as I possibly can, otherwise, I'll end up with goblins overrunning the city and my entire family in the Bog of Eternal Stench." She looked at him dubiously as he lounged comfortably in the wooden chair. Maybe she should just send him back to the Underground with a few new stipulations and be done with it. Keeping the Goblin King, er, Jareth here would be like living with a case of dynamite next to the kitchen stove. No, Sarah decided firmly. Jareth had put her through hell since she first met him. He could damn well stand to do a few things while he was here to make up for it. Yes, she was about to be mean, petty, and spiteful. It was going to be heaven.

"All right. First things first. This place has to be clean for tonight. You can help," she announced.

"Just what I was about to suggest," he replied smoothly. Sarah tossed him a small bundle.

"_You_, Jareth, will now wash the dishes in the kitchen sink." She strode out of the kitchen. "I'll be cleaning the living room if you have any questions!" she called back.

The former Goblin King blinked at the apron and dish towel in his hands. "That was not how I was going to do it," he told them.


	3. Snow White You Ain't

I realized one very important thing today: I have even less of an idea where this story is going than I usually do. So bear with me folks, I'll try to make sure everything is cleared up in the end. I'll try. Thanks to all the reviewers so far! You're the reason I keep going!

As always, I don't own any Labyrinth rights. But I'm willing to bargain.

Have fun!

Ladymage Samiko ;)

[. . .] think voice-over

. . . are thoughts

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To the Victor Go the Spoils ~ Part 3

Snow White You Ain't

It is well known that, while physically tiring, house cleaning leaves quite a bit of space for thinking. Jareth was busy concentrating on developing his dish-washing skills, so, interestingly enough, he wasn't thinking about too much else. Except for a few grumbles.

Sarah, on the other hand, knew exactly what she was doing, so she could space out releatively well. She checked on the still-sleeping Toby, then let her mind wander as she sorted clothes.

Okay, let's think this through. I defeated the Goblin King. Therefore, he is no longer the Goblin King. I am. Well, the Goblin Queen, anyway. It sounds like a lot of work and goblins aren't exactly my favorite creatures. So it'll probably be better if I just send him back to take care of it. At least he knows what he's doing. She thought of the trip through the Labyrinth and how smoothly he had handled her in the ballroom. Yeah, she thought sourly. He certainly does know what he's doing. Sarah became more and more irritated as she continued to mull it over. Words that came to mind were: selfish, self-centered, smug, arrogant, bastard, damn, and manipulative little git. Sarah was not a happy Fae mortal. And it showed.

[Sarah!] The voice that thundered in the laundry caught her attention, but didn't exactly improve her mood.

"What!" she snapped back.

[Control youself! Unless you _want_ to set the house on fire with a bolt of lightning.]

"I what?!" Her anger died instantly as her jaw dropped.

[Come on up and see the tree outside the front door.]

Sarah dropped the bundle of clothes she was putting into the washer and raced up the stairs. Yanking the front door open, she stared out in shock. The large elm that had stood next to the front door since before she could remember was now crackling merrily. The sky was perfectly clear.

"Jareth!" she screamed.

"Hmm?" He winked into being next to her, his hands still dripping soap suds. The girl took time from gawking at the tree to stare at the former king. To protect his elaborate outfit, she had pulled out an apron, which he was now wearing. By chance, she had chosen her own, so it didn't have the ruffles Karen's did, but it _did_ happen to be a fantastic shade of lavender covered with a pattern of unicorns, fairies, and rainbows. And he was wearing it with perfect aplomb.

She broke into near hysterical giggles.

"Sarah," he said warningly. She was only able to laugh harder, leaning on the door frame for support.

"I--I'm--sorry--Jareth," she gasped. "You--just--"

"The tree, Sarah?" The barest hint of irritation crept into his voice.

"Yes, yes," she wheezed in between chuckles. "Put it out, Jareth. Put it out."

It was somewhat sobering to see the blackened remains of the tree once the fire was out. "I'm sorry," she whispered, placing her hand on the ruined trunk. "I didn't realize--"

"No, Sarah, you never do," Jareth cut in harshly. "Stop wasting time and get back to whatever you were doing." He turned on his heel and stalked back into the house.

"No! It's not fair!" Sarah cried. "This shouldn't have happened! I won't let it. . ." She pulled on her power as Jareth had shown her and began to pour it into the tree.

Back in the kitchen, Jareth felt the near explosion of magickal power. "Sarah! No!" He ran back to the front of the house.

It was his turn to stare as he watched the tree respond to her power. He had been certain it was dead. And no Fae magick could bring things back from the dead. That was why he never killed. Even the High Fae couldn't reverse death. And now this girl-child, who had only today gained her powers, was doing just that.

Sarah was halfway to healing the tree when she reached the limit of her magick. The world began to tilt and spin. For the second time that day, she felt Jareth standing solidly behind her, this time feeding her his own magick to augment the pathetic trickle coming from herself. The power felt dark and pleasantly cool as it flooded through her. Within seconds, it was finished, the elm restored to its former glory. Sarah fell back against Jareth as his power left her and lapsed into unconsciousness.

"Enough of this," he growled as he lifted the girl easily into his arms and carried her into the house.

When Sarah awoke, she was in her bed. The sun was just beginning to hide behind the horizon. Seeing the red numerals of her desk clock, Sarah leapt to her feet. "Damn!" She thundered down the stairs. Her parents would be home any minute, she hadn't finished her work, hadn't taken care of Toby, and had an ex-Goblin King wandering around the house. They wouldn't be happy.

Sarah stopped dead as she entered the living room. It was spotless. The carpet was vacuumed, the wood and glass glistened. Dazed, she wandered down to the basement. Two baskets of laundry lay neatly folded by the door. Another load was spinning in the dryer. "Jareth?" she called uncertainly.

[I'm in the kitchen, dear one,] his voice sounded. Dear one?!! Sarah's eye's couldn't get any wider as she made her way back up.

She poked her head nervously around the door. Toby was crooning happily in his high chair, with a dish of baby food in front of him, the tray miraculously clean for once. And Jareth? Well, Jareth was finishing the last of the dishes.

He no longer wore the apron. Or his shirt. They both lay neatly folded across the back of one of the chairs. Sarah had a _very_ good view of his lean, pale back and the full effect of how close-fitting his breeches really were. The concept of breathing suddenly became alien.

"Sarah," he said pleasantly, drying his hands on the towel tucked into his waistband. "You're awake."

"Ga--ah?" was all Sarah was able get out.


	4. A Man's Brain

Okay. This part is a _lot_ shorter than I wanted it to be. But I don't have the time or the consciousness level. Cursed math problems. That also means this part is pure brain candy. The plot ain't goin' nowhere. Um, Labyrinth doesn't belong to me. Arg. Royalties could pay part of my college bills. THANK YOU to all reviewers!!!!!! You're the ones who keep me writing.

Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 4 ~ A Man's Brain

In spite of recent events and because of even more recent events, our friendly neighborhood ex-Goblin King was experiencing a case of highly inflated ego (which wasn't unusual). There were two major factors to this:

1) The unmistakably high level of hormones that were currently waging war with Sarah's common sense. It looked like the hormones were winning. And that went to Jareth's head faster than a bottle of tequila. Subconsciously, he began checking to make sure he had free time that night (and for the next several nights). He did.

2) The dishes and the laundry. The living room was simple: a wave of his hand and it was clean. He figured he might as well finish the other two by hand since they had already been started. Looking at his handiwork, he felt an odd sense of pride and accomplishment. It surprised him as much as anything, but it still made him feel pretty damn good. He couldn't think of the last time he had actually done anything without magic. The fact that he still could was giving him a "Who's da man?" complex.

But, being Jareth, he kept it all inside.

Except for that smirk.

"Have a good nap?" he asked "innocently," taking the opportunity to flex his chest muscles directly in front of her as he reached for his shirt.

Sarah's mouth moved, but nothing more seemed likely to come out. But nothing had to. At that moment, Sarah heard the most terrifying noise she had ever heard in her life.

Her parents' keys in the front door.

"Sarah, honey? We're home!"

Sarah emitted no more than a high pitched squeak before both girl and man blinked out from the kitchen.

"Why, Sarah," the girl heard the rich tenor in her ear, "how modern of you!" Sarah blinked the spots out of her eyes to find herself in her bed upstairs. With a half-naked Jareth lying next to her. The shock was what she needed to recover.

"Why--you--!" she spluttered. "Get out!"

"I'm not the one who did it," he replied smoothly, tracing his finger down her nose. Tapping it, he told her, "You did it all by your pretty little self. So. This. must be. where. you. wanted. to. be." She gaped at him.

"Me?" she squeaked. He nodded. "I brought both of us here?" His smirk grew, if that was at all possible, and he nodded again, slowly. "Damn." This was food for thought she didn't really need right now. Especially not with the lust that was busy trying to take control of her body.

"Okay, Jareth. Get out of the bed. Now," she mumbled into her pillow. Extremely unwillingly, he complied. Sarah's father chose that moment to knock and start opening the door.

"Sarah?"

Curses played through Sarah's mind. "Quick! Get back in! Get back in!" she hissed at him. With a playful grin, Jareth dove back under the sheets. She quickly arranged them to cover him completely.

"Uh, yeah, dad?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you asleep?" he father asked.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah. I just woke u--up!" Sarah smothered a yelp as what felt like five fingers began trailing up her thigh.

"You all right, kiddo?"

"Yeah, fine, dad. Just a--just a cramp!" She jabbed at the lump underneath the covers and was rewarded with a smothered masculine yelp. She guessed she got his eye.

"Okay. Well, just wanted to let you know Karen and I are home and it's time to get ready for the party."

"Okay, dad."

"And, honey? Try to have everything go well tonight. Your stepmother would appreciate it."

"I will, dad," she promised, quietly trying to fend off further under-the-blanket exploration. She was awarded with a strange look from her father.

"Thanks, Sarah," he said and closed the door.

Sarah leapt out of bed and hit the lights. "You asshole! That was my _father_, in case you didn't notice. What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

He lounged easily along the bed. "What I thought you wanted me to do. And you didn't have to hit so hard," he pouted elegantly."

Sarah was furious as well as confused. "Well, let me tell you, if you try that again, I will _personally_ take you to the Bog of Eternal Stench and drop you in! I _can_ do that, can't I?" she asked uncertainly.

"If Your Majesty so desires," came the smooth reply.

"Good. Consider that a warning. Now go away, I have to get dressed." Sarah turned and began burrowing in her closet.

Sarah returned from her excavation to find Jareth still lounging in her room. "I thought I told you to go," she grumbled.

"You didn't say where, fair one," he replied.

"Go to Hell, Jareth," she answered before she thought and immediately he disappeared. If Sarah had had any energy left, she would have been extremely alarmed. Sending a person literally to Hell was not something you did. But the girl just gave a mental shrug and began to get dressed.

"Whoops."


	5. Intermission

Another short bit, but I've figured out where I'm going with this! Aren't you proud of me? Oh, for the weekend... Any-who, some good songs to hear while Labyrinth-ing: Under Pressure by David Bowie ;P and Queen, The Fairy's Death by Akino Arai, and Dance With Me by Chisato. Just thought I'd mention it.

Have fun!

Ladymage Samiko ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 5 ~ Intermission

Since Jareth was presumably enjoying himself in Hell, Sarah decided she'd let him stay there for a while. She couldn't afford the distraction at her parents' party and besides, he'd probably meet a number of kindred spirits down there. Breathing a sigh of relief and smiling at how well she'd turned out that evening, Sarah made her way downstairs.

"There's my girl!" her father exclaimed as soon as he saw her. "Looking so grown up!"

"Thanks, dad," Sarah blushed. It was the first time she had worn this dress, a fluffy silver creation that complimented her grey eyes.

"Sarah, there you are." Karen bustled into the room. "Come help me set out the hors d'oeuvres." She bustled back out.

"You're welcome," Sarah muttered as she followed her stepmother into the kitchen.

The first half of the party passed in a blur. It wasn't exciting, or even mildly interesting, since most of the guests were people her stepmother wanted to impress with a few of her father's old friends mixed in. Since Sarah had no one to entertain, she got to play the role of the hired help.

"Go fetch some more canapes, Sarah, darling. Be a dear and get Mr. Hancock some water, will you? Open another bottle of wine, love; we're running low," Sarah mimicked the woman viciously during one of her trips to the kitchen. She slammed the door to the refrigerator. "At least _Jareth_ helps out!"

Meanwhile, Sarah's father was busy entertaining one of his guests. The pair watched as Sarah returned to the living room, serving hors d'oeuvres with a social smile pasted on her face.

"So that's your daughter, eh, Williams?" the man asked.

"Yeah, that's her," he answered, pride in his voice. "Pretty, isn't she? Looks just like her mother."

"Really?" came the noncommittal answer.

"Yes," was the wistful reply. No more was said until Sarah, wearing unfamiliar high heels, tripped, sending the small bits of food flying everywhere and herself straight to the floor. Unfortunately, her stepmother was only a few feet away.

"You clumsy little idiot!" she exploded, hauling the girl to her feet. "Can't you do _anything_ right? Or are you just trying to sabotage me?"

Sarah stared at the woman, stricken, tears in her eyes. She turned and ran out of the room.

On the opposite side of the room, the tall, tanned gentleman watched her, his eyes glinting dangerously, his face otherwise a placid mask.

Outside, it began to rain violently.


	6. Instrument of Grace

Hola! Not too much to say, just rerun the disclaimer and have fun!

Ladymage Samiko ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 6 ~ Instrument of Grace

Once Sarah had left the room, the man turned on his heel and stalked out the front door. No one felt brave enough to delay him. Out of sight, they immediately forgot about him, which was a good thing, since he immediately proceeded to turn into an owl. Flying past the surprisingly lively elm, he perched just outside Sarah's window, fluffing his feathers and gazing in with steady, unblinking eyes.

She was sprawled across her bed; her shoes and dress had been torn off and were lying forlorn in a corner of the room. Angry tears made their way down her cheeks and soaked into her pillow. The only sound that came from her were sobs.

It continued to rain.

It was after midnight when it slowed and stopped, though Jareth was seven-eighths asleep and didn't particularly notice. What he _did_ notice was a figure draped in a voluminous cloak and carrying a small bundle leaving through the back door.

Is the fool girl trying to run away? he asked himself. She won't get very far like that. Shaking the droplets from his feathers, he flew off after her.

Neither stopped until Sarah had reached a small clearing some ways from the house. Surrounded by trees and bushes, it was invisible to anyone outside it. She opened the pack she had been carrying, which Jareth saw contained a small tape player. A few moments of fiddling with it and she appeared to be satisfied. Wiping the last of her tears from her face, she threw off the cloak, at which the owl stared in amazement.

Sarah was wearing a long, flowing, gypsy skirt edged with two rows of ribbon. Also, a ruffled, off-the-shoulder blouse. Both were in bright, cheerful colors. A silver coin was tied to a ribbon running around her forehead. Her feet were bare.

A deep, persistant drum beat began to play from the tape recorder. Sarah's hands moved slowly through space, their movement fluid but controlled. Jareth felt magic just beginning to rise in the clearing and quickly returned to his human form, though he remained high in the tree, watching.

More instruments joined the drum: flutes, a fiddle, guitars, even some Jareth couldn't recognize. He noticed hands clapping in rhythm, and voices in the background noise of the tape, but no singing. The mood of the song changed, becoming faster, more sorrowful. Regret at past wrongs. Cries at the loss of loved ones. Pain in gaining what was not worth the price, at losing what was more valuable than life. Sarah moved to the heartbeat of the music, whirling in a dance that seemed both utterly spontaneous and perfectly planned. The magic Jareth had felt drew itself up from the Earth, becoming an intricate, invisible web that the girl danced within, manipulating and moving with it as though she could see it.

She was the most heartbreakingly beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He never even moved as her voice rose briefly to join with the finale of the song and with a final cry, cast the web of magic into a spell.


	7. But What the Tune?

Hmm. I'm not sure if this part is comprehensible or not. Oh well. I excuse myself by saying that I burned out last night after revising my novel in progress. 53 pages! Keep your fingers crossed I win the literary contest I entered. Anyway, I find this story moving in a totally different direction from the one I thought it was going in. Would y'all be interested in a few humorous omake (i.e. separate stories within the same universe) I'm pondering?

Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 7 ~ But What the Tune?

It was only long after Sarah had returned home that Jareth was able to even partially clear his mind of the burning image. He was more than surprised once he was able think clearly.

Sarah definitely possessed--and was able to control--magic. A rare quality among humans--especially since they no longer believed in it--even more rare to be able to control that level of magic with such precision. _For my will is as strong as yours_ she had said. Apparently, it was. Earth magic was raw, unfocused power that responded to an equal force of emotion and will. A master of Earth magic often found it impossible to work with Fae magic. Fae magic, on the other hand, responded to the least emotion, rendering it unpredictable and powerful. Jareth himself only allowed himself to feel amusement, a pleasant enough emotion but without the magical backlash he would otherwise experience. The few times he had allowed his emotions to get the better of him during his duel with Sarah had been costly. And she, she could use the very thing that had lost him his kingdom.

And he, fool that he was, had given her even more power.

The thought of the power she held drove the last wisps of her image from his thoughts as he shot bolt upright, nearly knocking himself out of the tree. Sarah obviously felt deeply; that was what controlled her magic. And now she was gifted with magic of an entirely different sort, a sort that would destroy the entire countryside if she allowed her emotions free rein, which he knew she often did. And destroy her as well.

But why hadn't they done so already? The scene at her house that evening caused her a good deal of pain. There ought to have been some magical working proceeding from that. And a sizeable one, if he had judged aright.

__

The rain he realized, dazed. _Earlier, she was angry and there was lightning. Tonight she cried and the heavens accompanied her_. The concept was as awe-inspiring as it was baffling. Had Sarah's new Fae magic been somehow connected to her human magic? The weather-workings were not at all up to the level of magic he would have expected, nor had Sarah seemed to experience the physical backlash, which would indicate she had been controlling her emotions. Yet Jareth knew it was something Sarah was almost incapable of. Her volatility was, in fact, one of the things he-- one of the things that amused him. And rain was not how Fae magic would have expressed itself. It would have been more likely to burn the living room down, or created an illusion where Sarah could hide.

What manner of power did the girl have?

It was nearing dawn and though Jareth was dying for answers to his questions, he decided to wait until Sarah woke of her own accord. He excused this unaccustomed thoughtfulness by reasoning that he wouldn't be able to get any coherent answers out of her otherwise. And so, with that thought in mind, he settled further into the crook of the tree, pulling his thick feather cape about him. It was rather comfortable there and he hadn't slept out of doors for over a hundred years.


	8. No Business Before Lunch

Hey all! Jareth and Sarah are definitely being unmanageable. I had meant to get a lot farther in this part than I did. Grr... Also, is it just me, or does Jareth seem to keep stealing the POV? But then, what can you expect from an arrogant, self-centered ex-Goblin King? (I do hope I'll get around to reinstating him at _some_ point.) Anyway, notes: 'niñita' means 'little one' essentially, and 'abuela' is grandmother. The reason I use these terms will be revealed as soon as I get to that part of the plot.

Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 8 ~ No Business before Lunch

Sarah rolled over, blinking at the bright sunlight flooding her room. She stretched lazily. Mmm. . . she felt so relaxed. It may not have been wise, but it had definitely been a good idea to dance last night. Grandma was right (as always). "Acting may be your passion, niñita, but your life, your soul will always be in the dance." Very, very true as far as Sarah was concerned. Dancing let her express her feelings, to enhance them or let them go. Unfortunately, she didn't often get the chance to _truly_ dance as she had last night. Dad didn't approve of Abuela, so Sarah danced the songs she had taught her when he couldn't find out.

Somehow, she was not surprised to see Jareth sitting on the windowsill once her eyes began to focus. Hmm...

"Morning, Jareth," she said cheerily. He blinked at her.

"Good morning, Sarah," he replied. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm," she nodded in assent. "Marvelously. You?"  


"Quite well." He had, in fact, though he had developed a crick in his neck which he soon banished.

"Good." Sarah took another look at him. "You're looking awfully tan this morning, Jareth," she commented.

"Yes, it's one of the hazards of visiting Hell. The heat, you understand."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry about that, Jareth!" Sarah's hand went to her mouth in amazement. Up to that point, she hadn't really believed he had gone. "Uh, when did you get back?"

"Last night. Hell really isn't all that interesting, you know. Satan only has so many topics of conversation, and we went through them all quite some time ago. Not much changes and it doesn't take to long to get bored of his boasting and whining."

Sarah blinked. That wasn't quite the characterization of the Prince of Darkness she had been expecting. Oh, well. "At least you returned safely. If you wouldn't mind leaving for a bit, though, I would like to get dressed."

"Sarah, we have things we must discuss," he told her.

She waved a hand at him. Later, later. "Sure. We can talk over lunch. Just let me get dressed."

Puzzled, Jareth did as she requested, stretching along a tree limb a short distance from the house. Was it just him, or was Sarah extraordinarily cheerful this morning?

[Jareth! You can come back now!] He instantly reappeared in her room. "Sarah, I really have to ask you something," he said urgently.

"Okay, but you'll have to change if you want to come down to lunch. My parents are there. Use an illusion or something."

"What?" The sudden change in topic confused him.

"Listen." She turned to him and spoke like he was a thick-headed child. "This is America, where thirty-something guys do _not_ go around dating teenagers. Well, guys who look thirty-something, anyway. If my father sees you, especially with the hair and the clothes, he'll call the cops. So, if you could look younger and come in through the front door like a normal person, then we can say you're a friend of mine and we'll have a chance at being believed."

Eyebrow raised, Jareth proceeded to tone down his age. "How's this?" piped the voice of a ten-year-old.

Sarah laughed. She is definitely not herself, Jareth thought. She's supposed to get annoyed with me. "Try again," she told him.

This time, he shifted to appear as a eighteen-year-old. He wore a white button down shirt open at the collar and slightly looser black pants with his customary black boots. He hadn't bothered to change his hair. No one messed with his hair.

"Not bad," Sarah commented admiringly. She stepped back to look him over and gave a chuckle. While Jareth had preserved his usual grace and demeanor, he couldn't prevent his build from changing. He definitely had the "arms and legs" look young men have before they fill out to match their height. Having seen _the_ Goblin King, Jareth now just looked, "Cute."

"Cute?" Jareth turned to look in the mirror. He had changed into a teen idol and all he could get now was "cute"?

"Don't worry," she told him with a twinkle in her eye. "You'll grow into it eventually." Giggling, she turned down the stairs. "Don't wait to long. It'll get cold."

Yes, Sarah was very definitely out of character this morning, Jareth said to himself as he blinked out to the front door.


	9. The Third Degree (And Other Uncomfortabl...

Ever notice how Jareth always seems to grin or smirk? (As opposed to smiling.) This episode's soundtrack is "Para Donde Vas" by the Iguanas. Anyway, round up the usual disclaimers and let the insanity continue. Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 9 ~ The Third Degree (And Other Uncomfortable Temperatures)

DING DONG!

"I'll get it!" Sarah shouted as she raced for the door, hearing Toby's squalls from the kitchen at the noise. He never shuts up, does he? she thought, bemused. Except yesterday, when Jareth was taking care of him. Huh. Odd. Never thought of Jareth as someone who would be good with kids, but I guess he almost has to be. A giggle escaped her as she thought of the Goblin King acting as an ordinary babysitter, chasing after four-year-olds and trying to get fussy infants to eat. She was smiling happily as she opened the front door.

It was a subtle shift in thinking, but crucial. In her room, Sarah had seen the Goblin King taken down a peg or two (or ten). Now, he stood at the front door and he was simply... "Jareth," she breathed. "Uh, come in." She stepped aside to let him pass.

"Thanks for the invitation," he grinned, an honest, amused grin. Sarah blinked. He still had a slight aura of magic around him, something Sarah had become especially sensitive to in the past day, but it was his natural charisma that Sarah was reacting to, that indefinable something that drew the eye even though he was not what people would consider classically handsome. And it may have been his younger appearance that allowed for an imperfection to dampen the formidable majesty that usually hit her like a brick wall. Sarah had stopped seeing the King. Now she saw the Man.

And she was fascinated.

The bubbly nature that seemed to be in control this morning resurfaced. She smiled. "Well, come on. If you're going to be staying, you might as well meet Dad and Karen." She grabbed his wrist and began towing him, not unwillingly, back to the kitchen.

The older couple were seated across from each other at the kitchen table, with Toby in his high chair next to Karen, apparently appeased by the plastic ring he was playing with.

"Morning, Dad, Karen," Sarah said cheerily, giving her father a kiss on the cheek.

"Don't you mean 'afternoon,' Sarah?" Karen replied, though without the malicious bite Jareth often associated with her. She sounded–friendly. Sarah shrugged.

"Whatever. Oh, Dad, Karen? This is my friend, Jareth. He, uh, goes to my high school."

Both adults shook his hand, giving him speculative looks that, truth be told, made him rather nervous.

"So, Jareth, is it?" her father said. "Please, sit down, join us. There's more than enough to go around."

"Thank you, Mr. Williams," Jareth replied smoothly, taking the chair indicated. Sarah grabbed a few plates from the counter and began filling them with the spaghetti Karen had apparently made herself.

"Jareth?" she asked. "Do you like marinara sauce?"

"Sure," he replied, though he had no clue what she was talking about. She ladled some on top of his spaghetti and placed the plate in front of him before taking the chair opposite. He looked at for a few seconds before trying a small forkful as Sarah was doing. Then he began (neatly) shoveling it in.

"So, Jareth, what grade are you in?" Jareth dimly heard Mr. Williams' voice through his enjoyment of his food. Chewing rapidly, he swallowed, looking to Sarah for a cue. He saw her lips move.

"I'm a senior, Mr. Williams," he answered.

"Ah, an upperclassman! Decided on college yet?"

"Actually, I won't be going to college." Whatever that was.

The atmosphere in the room became decidedly chilly. "Oh?" her father questioned. "And just what _will_ you be doing?"

I guess going to college is a good thing, Jareth deduced. And I can't exactly tell him I'm the former Goblin King who is serving his daughter until she reinstates me. "Actually, I have to return home. I've been staying here with a friend, but I'm expected to go back and run the family estate. My parents are deceased and left quite a large place, with the stipulation that I had to take it over when I came of age."

Both Williams had perked up at the words "large estate." Sarah's eyebrows had risen halfway up her forehead. "Really," Karen commented. "What's your family name, Jareth? Maybe I've heard of your family's place."

"Oh, I doubt it," Jareth replied smoothly. "It's quite far from here."

"England, I bet," he said. "I thought I caught your accent."

Why not go along with the poor man's delusions? "Quite," he replied. "A lovely little place down south. We focus primarily in livestock, but there are a number of lovely gardens on the estate. It's absolutely gorgeous in the summer."

Choking sounds were heard from across the table. "Sarah, are you okay?" Karen asked. The girl nodded and managed to gasp, "May I be excused?"

"Of course, dear," her father answered. Sarah nearly leapt from her chair and dashed down the hall.

"Uh, if you two will excuse me?" Jareth rose and swiftly followed her.

"Sarah?" he called, reaching her room.

"Jareth," she gurgled, waving him inside. She gasped, tears coming from her eyes. "Oh, Jareth, that was simply too much! A country estate? With goblins for livestock? And the Labyrinth for gardens? Jareth, what were you thinking?"

He grinned wickedly at her, then began to chuckle himself. Finally, the pair collapsed to the floor side by side, laughing hysterically.


	10. That Look in Your Eyes

Wow. I never thought I'd get such a large response. Thank you, minna (everyone)!!!!!!! I wish I could write more, but must. get. sleep. I thought it was a good place to leave off. Soundtrack? Prologue/Sanctus from Angel Sanctuary Drama CD. Good music. As always, round up the disclaimers and brand 'em. ;P Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 10 ~ That Look in Your Eyes

~ fey (adj) - 1) whimsical, strange ; 2) being in an unnaturally excited state of mind, once 

thought to portend death ~

As the laughter died down, Jareth looked into Sarah's sparkling eyes and and the little thought that had been niggling at the back of his mind surfaced.

What in the Hell kind of spell did she cast?

And the only reason he remembered was because the faint aura of the spell surrounded her. Gazing at her with an intensity she couldn't help but notice, he saw the spell and, finally, both of the magics she now carried with her. That she kept them so well hidden was a mark of incredible control, especially with the Fae magic he had so recently endowed her with. Once again, he cursed himself for several kinds of fool. Then he took a glance at himself and cursed himself for being several other kinds.

The spell had been cast on him, too.

He rapidly reviewed the events of the morning. Sarah ignoring last night. Her cheerful mood. Her pleasant behavior to her step-mother. Karen's returning pleasantness. The absence of awkward feelings at the table. His own fey behavior and neglect to follow up on his earlier suspicions. The answer was obvious, now he knew it. Sarah had cast a classic "forgive and forget" spell, a spell calculated to ease the pain of mistakes and bring contentment to those it was cast upon. The dance had _released_ her pain.

An intriguing notion.

"Jareth?" Sarah's voice came uncertainly from beside him. He blinked in surprise as he realized he was still staring at her. "Uh, are you okay?"

"Where did you learn magic?" he asked suddenly. She drew back in surprise.

"Magic? Jareth, what are you talking about? You gave me magic yesterday."

"No, Sarah," he contradicted. "You cast last night, in a manner that was _not_ Fae magic and spoke of a good deal of knowledge. So I ask you again, where did you learn magic?"

He was looking straight into her eyes--his own like steel and gold-- as though he could stare into her soul. And from the looks of things, he wasn't pleased with what he saw. "Jareth." Her voice shook. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, let me remind you," he purred, leaning towards her, his teeth bared in something that was definitely not a smile. "Think, perhaps, of a wooded clearing. A tape of folk music. A gypsy skirt and silver coin."

Her eyes widened in realization. "My dancing?" she breathed incredulously. "But that was just dancing! I do it to work out my frustration, because I like to. Jareth, until yesterday, I couldn't do so much as a fake love potion, let alone cast!"

She backed up nervously along the floor as she swore she heard him growl. "Really?" he said unpleasantly. "Then would you care to give a 'scientific' explanation for this universal good cheer that seems to be floating around in this house? I'm sure I would adore hearing it."

Sarah's mouth opened and closed as she caught the wavelength he was on. He was right. Given what had happened last night, everyone, even she, had been in strangely good moods. "I--I can't."

"Would you like me too?" Jareth's voice dripped saccherine sweetness. "I was there last night, Sarah. You came and danced. While you danced, you wove a spell which, though low level, used magic that is very difficult to control. When you finished, you cast it, over your family, over yourself, and over me! That is what you did last night."

"I didn't-- I couldn't--!"

"You can. And you did."

"But she never told me--!"

"Who never told you, Sarah?" His voice strick her like a blow, leaving her winded.

"My-- my grandmother," she sobbed.

"Then why don't we pay her a visit, hmm?" he asked almost casually.

"We can't."

"Why not?" The edge returned to the question.

"Because I don't know where she is."


	11. Eternal Chain

Finally, this part is done! I had it mentally plotted out yesterday and almost lost it, since I made myself write my paper before doing this. I didn't finish till 5am, and by that time I was attempting to rewrite the 50s "Zorro" theme along the lines of "Jareth, the King so cunning and cruel." If you know what I'm talking about, you'll know my state of mind. My computer froze while I was typing tonight, and I lost a small section again! Grr... But I really do like it. Anywho, I'll write more tomorrow and hopefully get to some more explanation. Musical Theme: "Eternal Chain" by Akino Arai.

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 11 ~ Eternal Chain

"You don't know where she is?" Jareth was, to put it mildly, nonplussed. "Wh--" Before he could finish, he felt a familiar twinge in his chest. Oh, no. . .

"Sarah," he said urgently. "Reinstate me."

"What?" Sarah was, as expected, somewhat baffled by the change in subject.

"Just do it!" he shouted at her. "Make it temporary, make it eternal, I don't care! Just make me the Goblin King again! Do it, Sarah! Now!" His hands tightened as he struggled to maintain control.

With a near-terrified glance at him, Sarah spoke the words. "Jareth is the Goblin King for the next twenty-four hours." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Jareth plunged his hand into the dimensional pocket, grabbed the crystal key, and was gone.

He arrived in the Underground just as the first pain took him. Falling to his knees, he curled into a ball as it spread throughout his being, sharp and dull, steady and throbbing. The world no longer existed; neither the concept of the Under or Above worlds, of Sarah or himself intruded upon his conscious. Pain was his conscious.

His fingers dug into his thighs, drawing blood. His jaw clenched hard enough so that, were it possible to feel additional pain, his head would ache. But that was the one thing that kept him sane. He knew he would never cry out. Never.

As the pain slowly receded, Jareth's brain and body began to function once more. Had it been minutes or years, hours or decades? He would never truly know, only discover later it had probably been somewhere around twelve hours. He collapsed backward, his body reacting to the universal constriction it had been forced into. Jareth found himself sitting with his back to a tree , his head between his knees. 

For more than an hour, Jareth tried to stand, to walk, to _move_, but neither his body nor his mind would answer. He felt as though he was a tiny being trapped inside a large immobile cage, screaming to be let out. Weak. So damnably weak. He didin't even possess the power to control his emotions or to control his own physical form. Damn her. Damn himself for letting this happen. Damn whatever Power had made him this way.

But Jareth _had_ been made this way, and for dancing-- for letting his anger and fear rise-- he had to pay the fiddler. A pale shadow of his usual smirk appeared on his face, the muscles too tired to do much more than let his lips twitch slightly. And a damned expensive fiddler it was. Yet the two were bound together eternally by bloodied chains.

Staring at the ground, the man renewed the promise he had made the first time he had let his emotions --the first time, it had been joy-- arise and take him. He would never let anyone, not even God Himself, if he could, see him like this. No one, not a Fae, not a human, not an animal, would see him like this, a helpless, pathetic, stupid weakling.

He would never let anyone pity him.

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For Sarah, the next forty-eight hours were not quite Hell, but she imagined they were getting close. Immediately after Jareth's departure, she had developed a low-grade headache, which stubbornly remained through all the Tylenol she downed. Jareth's words haunted her for some reason, and she couldn't quite say why. She had cast a spell, he had told her, using magic she must have had from somewhere else. But she had never had magic. She would have loved it if she had. Abuela would have known that; she would have told Sarah if either of them had magic. Since she hadn't, Sarah was certain she didn't have any. Jareth was probably looking for a way to trick her again. Perhaps . . . Perhaps he wanted to find someone else he could use to manipulate her again! Toby was in the clear, Sarah assumed, and her parents certainly didn't have the same influence. Perhaps her father had, once, but that had died a long time ago. The only other person she truly knew and loved was her grandmother. So it was entirely possible this was all some sort of elaborate set-up.

But his words replayed in her head over and over. "I have never lied to you, Sarah." He _had_ bullied, deceived, trapped, and nearly killed her. But, try as she might, she couldn't remember a time when he had out and out lied to her. She didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

And so her thoughts chased each other in circles, alternating between the idea of her knowing magic and Jareth lying to her face. 

She somehow made it through the day, but as the sun went down, Karen's commonplace self-centeredness and her father's amiable absentmindedness returned, as well as Sarah's resentment for the night before. The situation only got worse, and Sarah ended up spending the entire evening in her room, wishing she _could_ control whatever magic she possessed so she could at least conjure up some food. She might even eat that damned peach again. She fell asleep angry, confused, upset, and most of all, hungry.

Sarah had school the next day, so she was up early. Her entire day was spent rerunning the weekend through her mind and waiting for Jareth to reappear. He didn't and as his twenty-four hours came to a close, Sarah became more and more certain he had intimida-- tricked her into giving him back his full powers and wouldn't be back. She wasn't sure if she was glad or sorry, but she kept looking over her shoulder, waiting. And he never came. She went to bed early that night, pleading her headache, but sleep was long in coming.


	12. Talk to Me

Not much to say this time. I _think _this marks about the halfway point in the story, but that depends on where the story leads me. I certainly don't know where we're going. The theme today is "Eternal" by Ishihara Shin'ichi. Round up the disclaimers and brand 'em. Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 12 ~ Talk to Me

It was long before Jareth could stand, but as the light dimmed in the Underground, he could be seen straight and slender next to the gnarled tree where the game had begun. As he stared out over the Labyrinth, he could almost see a ghost image of Sarah beside him. But what he did see pained him more than the agony he had just experienced.

Numerous acres of the Labyrinth had been destroyed and all that remained of where they had been were piles of dust.

Jareth had accepted, though grudgingly, the toll Fae magic took from him. He knew that anytime he expressed his emotions, the magic would exact it from his physical body and give it physical expression. The flicker of amusement he ordinarily expressed was enough for the parlor tricks he performed every day. A little more was all he needed to do anything he wished and the pain was no more than a pin prick, if that. But to let his emotions have free reign as he had would release it from all control. It often chose to be destructive and would lash out at the one thing in this world he was truly bonded to: the Labyrinth.

Jareth's features schooled themselves back into their customary expression. He could feel that he no longer had the ability to rebuild what had been destroyed. His reign over the Underground had expired and it was time to return to his lady. With a pathetically dramatic swirl of his cloak, Jareth disappeared.

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Sarah looked into her mirror as she sat bonelessly in front of her vanity. Another schoolday had gone by, just as long and pointless as the last. The headache had finally passed, but it left behind it a feeling of overall uneasiness, a "whisper in her Ghost" as a movie character once put it. The girl ran her fingers over her reflection. "Mirror mirror on the wall," she joked weakly. "Where is that tricky bastard?"

She hadn't expected an answer.

Too tired to do more than lean away from the table, she watched as the mirror darkened and cleared, offering her a clear view of the Underground from the air. The view began to slowly close in, not to the castle, as she expected, but to the hill that had been her introduction to the Labyrinth's treacherous ways. It had been a nice little hill as she recalled, with nothing more dangerous on it than the old, blackened tree. And Jareth.

Apparently, Jareth had returned to the hill, for it was his form she was able to make out near the tree. But not, she assumed, for reasons of nostalgia. It was hard to tell , though, as she focused on his face; he was the master of the stony expression. But if her eyes weren't deceiving her, she thought he looked a little pale, a little tired. _Oh well_, she thought. _If he is, tough cookies. He should have been back here, not doing a dramatic recreation of _The Wanderer. She continued watching as he turned and disappeared.

"Becoming vain in our old age, are we?" The mocking voice was just behind her, making her jump and the picture in the mirror vanish.

"Jareth," she said tiredly.

"You call, my lady?" He retreated to ensconce himself on the window sill.

"Shouldn't I punish you or something for breaking the time limit?"

"As you wish."

"I wish you would tell me what in the hell was going on with that temper tantrum the other day. And why you suddenly felt the urge to return to the Underground." He could hear the undercurrent of anger in her voice but her words caught his atttention.

"The other day?" Had it been that long?

"Yes, Jareth, the other day," she snapped. "It's been over forty-eight hours since I let you return to your precious Underground. Now what's going on? Why do you think I have magic?"

"Because you do," he began, turning to watch her face. "Last--uh-- the other night, I saw you leave the house and I followed you. I watched you dance. You cast what is known as a "forgive and forget" spell, which blocked your family's memories of that night and the feelings you experienced. You blocked _my_ memories and feelings, which is no mean feat. You have Earth magic, Sarah, a kind of magic that is difficult to control and even more difficult to shape in the way that you did. Magic like that can only be used with vast talent and training." He noticed Sarah staring at him in wonder. "What?" he asked, with what should have been irritation.

"That's the first time you've ever bothered explaining anything to me," she replied, fascinated. "But why do you insist on meeting my Abuela?"

"Sarah," he said, looking her straight in the eye, "Your magic and mine work on violently opposite principles. The emotion and will you use are catastrophic when added to Fae power. And yet, all that happened was rain and a little lightning."

"So? Something _did_ happen, then."

"With your power, a good-sized section of the surrounding area should have been demolished."

"Are you serious?" she gasped.

"For some reason, the Fae magic I gave you is not reacting in the way I expected. I need to know why, so we can keep the two magics you now possess from causing chaos."

"Can't I just give it back?" Sarah asked in a small voice.

"Sorry." The grin he gave her was almost sympathetic. "Once granted, Fae magic is forever. Unless you are defeated in turn."

"Oh."

"So, why do you not know where your grandmother is? She _is_ the one who taught you?"

"Yes, she taught me to dance. 'In the old way,' she said, 'the good way.'" Sarah reached into a drawer and pulled out a photograph. "As for why I don't know--" She handed it to the man, who looked at it carefully.

It was a relatively old photograph, in black and white, of a couple and a young girl in front of what appeared to be large wagons. Both the man and the girl were very fair; his hair looked almost white, though he was obviously not an old man. He was wearing the suit common to the period but with the shirt open and no tie. The girl had on a light colored dress. It was her eyes, their shape and color, though, that identified her as the daughter not only of the man, but of the woman with them.

She was a small woman, yet she drew the eye. The bones of her face showed in high relief, giving her face a look of strength and determination though she was smiling brightly. It was an expression that Jareth seemed to remember seeing before. The woman was obviously part of the group, her arm linked with the man's, her hand on the girl's shoulder. Yet her hair and eyes were a glittering black and her skin, in real life, would have been a light bronze.

Jareth turned the picture over. On the back was written "Visiting family, Summer 1960."

Sarah had been looking silently over his shoulder. "Those are my grandparents," she said quietly. "And my mother."

He turned it over again, looking at the girl who would one day grow up to abandon her own daughter. Sarah continued.

"It wasn't a common thing at the time. I gather most of the people my grandfather knew frowned on their marriage. But my grandmother came to town one year along with her caravan and they met. She is a Mexican gypsy. They wander all over the country, moving from place to place as the group decides. At that time, the border between the two countries wasn't as difficult to cross, so they came maybe every five years before heading back down. Abuela once told me that family is strength, but love is everything. She decided she would stay and marry the man she had fallen in love with. So they settled down to raise a family like most people did. But it turned out both of them were wanderers at heart, so they moved around a lot. They were better about it after my mother was born, but still, every so often they would pick up and move again. They were still doing it until a few years after I was born. Grandfather died and Abuela decided she would return to her family. Mother had made her own life. They didn't get along well; Mother hated the way they kept hauling her around the countryside. So Grandma went back to roaming.

"It was about three years ago when Abuela persuaded the caravan to return up North so she could visit me. Dad wasn't happy, but he let me spend the summer with them. I guess it was so he could have some "quality time" with Karen, but I had so much fun, I didn't mind. Abuela was everything I had ever dreamed of in a grandmother. She cooked and laughed and let me do anything I wanted. She told me stories of her past and the history of our people. She taught me how to dance. She answered every question I had and so many more. I cried when she left, but oddly enough I understood why. Wandering was her life and I wouldn't be the one to ask her to give it up. She had tried for my grandfather and if true love didn't work, I certainly couldn't do anything. She did tell me that she would be there when I needed her and I got the feeling that she would have taken me with her if she could. But Dad's the one who's supposed to take care of me. So she went back to Mexico and I came back here. Since then, I've had the odd card from her, but I don't know where she could be. Gypsies don't settle anywhere for long."

Jareth looked at the face that was hovering a few feet above his. "So that's where this comes from," he murmured, fingering her nearly black hair.

She turned away from him quickly. "Yeah," she said lightly. "Abuela says I have her chin, too."

"Well, then," Jareth commented, standing, "shall we go and visit your abuela?"

"How?"

"That, my dear, is the simple part."


	13. At First You Don't Succeed

Ah, mystical number 13. In tribute to all that is "evil," our theme today is "Forest of the Round Dance" from _Vampire Princess Miyu_. BTW, the themes are usually music I was listening to while writing or otherwise reflect the "mood." Not required, but good background, I think. Anyway, round up the disclaimers and brand 'em, then on with the show! Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 13 ~ At First You Don't Succeed

As Jareth spoke, the room around them dissolved, to be replaced by the lush green of the clearing. It was an entirely different place by daylight, Jareth noted. The shadowy ring of trees was now brightly highlighted by the sunlight playing around and through the leaves. Birds were everywhere. Jareth raised an eyebrow. Unless they were hunters, he didn't much care for birds. Perhaps that was why the only flying things in his kingdom were those damned fairies. And a few other beings.

He led Sarah to the center of the grassy area. She watched him sit cross-legged on the ground, fully expecting to hear a seam rip. When it didn't, she told herself that she had to remember to ask him who his tailor was. To be able to get something that form-fitting without spandex and stay in one piece, now _that_ was an accomplishment. It took her a few seconds to realize Jareth was motioning for her to sit in front of him. Sarah mimicked his position, facing away the same direction he was.

She felt rather than heard him move closer to her. "Now lean back," his voice came near her ear. "And rest your weight on your hands." Sarah did that, finding her head resting on his chest. She tilted her head to look up at him. He had a nice chin.

"Is this how you _normally _do this?" she demanded.

He chuckled down at her and she could feel the movement in his chest. "No, you suspicious child, this is not how I would do it. But we are on _your_ planet, looking for _your_ grandmother. I do not share those links which would make it extremely easy for me to find her myself. Since you do, it is better to work through you again, as I did to show you how to put the key away. After this, you will be able to do it yourself, though I would not advise it until we figure out your magical limitations."

"Okay," Sarah shrugged and leaned back, closing her eyes. Jareth had nice teeth, too. Huh.

Blinking at her unusually quick acceptance, the Fae moved his hands, for once ungloved, to cover hers on the ground. She had very soft skin, he noted. As soft as the velvet he was accustomed to having surround his hands. Unconciously, his thumb moved back and forth across her hand.

Sarah's head flew back, nearly banging him in the chin as she stared up at him wordlessly. She didn't otherwise move, but Jareth felt as surge of power in her which flowed through him feeling rather like a strong electric shock. It was both like and unlike his own power and it was the unlike part that alarmed him. What was he doing?

He recalled the girl who was still, after all, staring at him. "Sorry," he said simply. "I didn't mean to startle you." She gave him another dubious look, but returned to her original position.

"Now relax," he murmured. "Lean into the Earth. Feel it. It is a part of you. You--" His eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. He ought to be going into trance state with her. Sarah felt totally relaxed, so was the problem him or her? He looked down at the girl. "Sarah," he said, slightly exasperated. Her head was resting completely on his chest, her eyes closed, her mouth slightly open. She was asleep. Shaking his head, he moved to let her weight rest in his arms. Picking her up, he stood and both disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Once again in her room, he laid the girl on her bed, magically changing her clothes and tucking her in. _She must be exhausted_, he thought. It was only five in the afternoon according to the clock on the dresser. He glanced at her.

It was a cliche, but Sarah really did look child-like in her sleep. The determination--the stubborness--disappeared, leaving behind the girl of dreams. Jareth wondered briefly if her grandfather had seen something similar in her grandmother. "Sarah," he said softly, "what am I going to do with you?" His hands remembered the feel of hers, and moved to stroke her face. Once he realized what he was doing, he pulled back.

"What am I going to do with myself?" he said disgustedly, and vanished from the room, leaving only a vague impression of myth and magic behind him.


	14. One Way or Another

One thing I want to make quite clear: This wasn't supposed to happen! I had something quite different planned for this part, but three things got in my way. Sarah's innate, but well-hidden, bitchyness, the Goblin King's sadistic desire to keep this story going, and my own warped sense of humor. One or all of these is at work. Take your pick. Anywho, a question: Would y'all like it if I put the themes on my website? I know most of them are hard to find. Today's is _Mambo Parisienne_ from the movie _Charade_. (Good movie.) Now round up the disclaimers & brand 'em. Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 14 ~ One Way or Another

Sarah woke slowly, preferring the shadowy existance where you know your dreams and can savor them. She stretched lazily, enjoying the feeling of the sheets and the perfect warmth under them. It felt good; she hadn't slept this well in ages. Blinking, she poked her head out from the covers. It was just dawn, far too early to be waking up. So why was she up? She frowned as she worked on piecing together the last few days.

Her frowned deepened as she recalled the previous afternoon. If she didn't know better, she would say she trusted that sneaky SOB! She had told him her family history, allowed him to order her around, and boy did his hands feel good! Sarah stopped that thought before it could take over and stuffed it in a dark corner of her mind. The corner that held several other 'interesting' thoughts that hadn't been there before Jareth came calling. The important issue was that _she_ was supposed to be giving the orders here, not him! True, he did tell her about her magic and she knew enough to respect his experience. After all, despite his claims, what did she know about _real_ magic?

However, she told herself, today she was going to play and he was going to dance to her tune. The girl launched herself out of bed, mind already beginning to plot what she wanted to do and what she wanted him to do.

Once she finished her devious plans and was dressed, Sarah took time out to wonder where on Earth Jareth was. The days he had been on earth, he had been in her room before she awoke. Well, she shrugged, he had obviously found someplace else he wanted to be and she, for one, wasn't going to argue. Not until breakfast was over, anyway. The more time she had to prepare, the better.

He returned, in fact, right after breakfast, and was waiting for her when she pounded back up to her room to get her books. She saw his mouth begin to move and held up her hand.

"Stop!" she told him and, surprised, he remained silent. "Good. Okay, I know you're all on fire to go meet my grandmother and dissect my power like some screwed up bio lab but guess what? You're not. Not today, anyway. I have school, and since I'm the one who's giving the orders around here, it's too bad if you want to do something else. You know why? Because you're coming with me." She smiled beatifically.

Jareth, for once, was absolutely speechless. Not at the fact that she was taking control. No, that was exactly in her character. But school? She hated that place and nearly everyone in it. And he had figured she wouldn't want them to know he existed. But, he shrugged mentally, she was the one calling the shots. "Anything else, Your Majesty?" he asked. Sarah wasn't sure if that tone was sarcasm or laughter.

"Well, I think it would be best if you did the same disguise you put on for my parents. I don't need the hassle of trying to explain why I'm being followed by an overage punk rocker."

"Overage is _one_ way of putting it." It was definitely laughter now, but he did as she asked and soon the long-limbed boy in jeans had returned. He chose a pair of knee-high, soft-soled leather boots and, for reasons known only to himself (he's certainly not giving _me_ any hints), a white t-shirt reading "I can curse you in five seconds." on the front and "Do you feel lucky?" on the back. Sarah took one look at the shirt and started giggling.

"I'll have to remember that," she told him. "Shall we go?"

"We shall, my Queen," he replied grandly, taking her arm. He was so wrapped up in his own performance that he didn't notice her slight start at the title and the possibilities it presented to her.

Thanks to Jareth's sudden decision that he was tired of walking, the pair found themselves at school fifteen minutes before the bell was supposed to ring. Sarah, who wasn't used to having anyone pay any particular attention to her was acutely aware of all the eyes, mostly feminine, sizing up her companion. She was rather embarassed and fought the urge to glare at all of them.

They were just in time to catch the end of the weekly cheer session. Nobody except the cheerleaders understood why or how they let off all that pep that early in the morning. Most students didn't arrive until just before the bell anyway. The cheerleaders kept doing it though, to the intense annoyance of those who had to be there early for honors classes.

It wasn't long after that the head cheerleader's radar went off. The group briefly conferred before walking as one in Sarah and Jareth's direction.

"Hi, Susan!" piped the head cheerleader.

"Sarah," she muttered, to be answered only by a brief shrug.

"Who's your friend?" the girl continued, rolling her eyes to look up at the handsome stranger.

"This is Jareth," Sarah answered politely. She would have given Jareth the girl's name, but she honestly didn't remember and what's more, she didn't particularly care.

"Ladies," Jareth said, and bowed his head briefly in greeting. He shot a puzzled look in Sarah's direction, missing the hearts that appeared in all of the girls' eyes.

"Nice to meet you," the girl gushed. "My name's Kathy. This is Erin, Emily, Macy, Laura, Lacey, Natalie, and Kara." Most of the girls were blonde, though Emily was brunette and Kara a red-head. They were the cheerleaders' nod to affirmative action. "You sound like you aren't from around here," Kathy continued.

"No," Jareth answered cautiously. "I'm from...out of town," he finished.

"Well, isn't that just fascinating! Why don't you come with us and we'll tell you all about our school and you can tell us where you're from!" As effectively as a military maneuver, the girls moved to surround Jareth and move him away from Sarah. Jareth gave her a questioning look, but Sarah simply smiled and waved before making her own way to her usual corner of the quad, which, conveniently enough, still gave her an unobstructed view of Jareth.

She had just pulled a book out of her bag when a voice called out "Hey, Sarah!"

She turned. "Hey, Matt! How're you doing?"

"Pretty good. I just finished setting up the new fantasy scene in the basement last night. Magicians, dragons, fairies, the works! You should come see it sometime."

"I'd love to," Sarah replied, the mention of fairies distracting her slightly. She glanced back over to where Jareth was being fawned over. Somehow, they'd backed him up against the wall.

Matt took a look at what Sarah was interested in. "Ah, fresh meat for our local brainless bunch. I wonder where they found him; he doesn't look like a frosh."

"Actually, he isn't. He's an acquaintance of mine. I brought him to school for the day."

"And you abandoned him to the mercies of the blondes? You _are_ heartless!" the boy replied jokingly, but still curious.

"Oh, he's got a few things to answer for," Sarah replied absentmindedly, grinning. The look on Jareth's face was one of fascinated horror as the girls clustered around him.

Matt's eyebrows lifted. "Surely no crime deserves that much punishment! What'd he do?"

Sarah surveyed him closely. Matt was a good friend of hers, the head of the school's sci-fi/fantasy club. He shared her love of The Labyrinth, but didn't have the personality to act it. He, along with a few of the school's other "geeks," was the only person who might believe her. Still. . .

"Well, it's kinda personal. But if Jareth doesn't mind you knowing, then I'll tell you later."

If Matt's eyebrows went any further, they'd join his hairline. But just then, the bell decided to ring. "I guess it'll have to be later," he commented. "But you have definitely piqued my interest." He stood, grabbing his bag. "See ya at lunch, Sarah."

"See ya," she replied, waving, before standing up herself. She found herself face to chest with the ex-Goblin King. He was frowning down at her. She gulped.

"That," he told her, "was not a very nice thing to do." She gazed up at him.

He broke into a fierce grin. "That's my girl!"

She grinned back. Oh, he had no idea. . .


	15. Fae Don't Make Good Pets

Um. . . I think I'll let the story talk. Two themes: Rudie Can't Fail by The Clash for the first half, then If Looks Could Kill by Heart. Have fun!

Ladymage Samiko ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 15 ~ Fae Don't Make Good Pets

The morning passed more or less as Sarah had planned. Her friendly companion was nearly bored to tears listening to the teachers, since, as he told her, he had learned all of this stuff a long time ago. He wouldn't say exactly how long. And there wasn't anything he could do, because Sarah had ordered him to behave himself. So he draped himself along the tiny school chairs, oddly managing to look comfortable at the same time, and, as far as Sarah could tell, simply blanked out.

The highlight of the morning had been the class right before lunch: math. Since Jareth was a visitor, each teacher had asked him to stand up and introduce himself, etc. Sarah told him to do it. For three classes running, he gave the same story he had told the Williams: he was a foreigner, staying with a friend, family owned a large estate, blah, blah, blah. In math, he had apparently gotten bored with the process. And Sarah hadn't said that he couldn't change the story.

"Good morning, my name is Jareth," he told the half-asleep students. "I used to be a Goblin King and I lived in this place called the Underground. However, one day I made the mistake of granting Sarah's wish. She visited my home and defeated me, so now she is the Goblin Queen and I am her humble servant, which is why I'm standing here being bored out of my mind, because otherwise I would simply turn all of you into goblins and go home to a nice goblet of spiced wine. Anyway, it is a pleasure to meet you all." With an elaborate bow, he stalked back to his seat next to Sarah, ignoring the smiles and laughter. 

Sarah was about to tell him off when her math teacher hissed in her ear, "Miss Williams, be so kind as to remind your guest that this is math, not drama. He seems to have your flair, but this is not the appropriate place." He continued up the row and began the day's lesson. Sarah, meanwhile, was getting a kick out of everyone's reaction and the sulking king beside her.

At lunch, Sarah showed Jareth around the cafeteria, picking out food for both of them. She wasn't mean enough to experiment on him with the "food" they served, so she showed him what things were safe to eat. Or should be, anyway. Did Fae have food allergies?

"Let's see... Over there's the cheerleader/jock area. Would you like to meet our football team?" Sarah asked innocently. "You seemed to be very popular with the blondes."

He gave her a thin-lipped smile. "Oddly enough, I don't feel like persuing the acquaintance. Would _you_ like to spend some more time getting to know the Fireys?"

"Not a chance in Hell, Jareth," Sarah grinned.

"On the contrary," he replied. "There are quite a few chances in Hell."

"For what, self-immolation?"

"Among other things," he purred next to her ear. Sarah gave him a look. She didn't know much, but that sounded rather like a proposition!

"Uh, anyway, this is where we sit." She pointed to a small table that already held three people.

"We?" he questioned.

"You didn't think I spent all my time by myself, did you? I just don't invite anyone home."

"Ah." He left it at that, making Sarah wonder what was going on in that twisty brain of his. How much had he watched her, anyway? She gave a mental shrug--he was too complicated to really waste much time trying to figure him out. Walking over to the table she waved to everyone.

"Hi, guys!"

A chorus of voices answered her. Matt was already there. He could have been the exemplar of the WASPs, except that his gold hair grew past his shoulders and large glasses obscured his ice blue eyes. Next to him was Lily, a tiny girl with true black skin and wide, dark eyes that always gave her a look of surprise. Across from them was Alan, a brunet who was just as tall and leggy as Jareth was, but with the usual awkwardness. His green eyes studied the stranger dubiously.

Sarah introduced them all as she and Jareth slid in next to Alan. "So, Sarah, what's the story?" Matt asked her.

"Yeah," Lily piped up. "Matt told us about this morning. What'd he do?"

"Jareth?" Sarah asked. "Mind if I tell them?"

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "Does it matter if I do?" he asked. "You're the boss."

"You know it does," Sarah replied, somewhat annoyed.

"Then by all means."

Sarah filled her friends in on the entire Labyrinth adventure, finishing with Jareth telling her she had become his overlord.

"Ooh, nice going, Sarah!" Lily cheered. "Being his overlord's something I wouldn't mind doing. Can I borrow him sometime?"

Sarah nearly choked on her french fry. "What?" she spluttered.

"Come on, girl! You can't be telling me you haven't noticed what a hot hunk of man you've gotten!"

"Uh..." Sarah blushed. "I--uh..."

"Yes, Sarah?" Jareth placed his chin in his hand. "Do tell. Am I a 'hot hunk of man?'"

"Oh!" Lily's eyes grew rounder, matching her mouth. "I'm awfully sorry if I offended you, Jareth!"

"No offense taken," he assured her. "But I would like to hear Sarah's opinion on the subject."

Sarah glared at her friend, becoming redder every second.

"Hey, minna!" came a voice.

"Saved by the bell," Alan muttered before a figure came into view.

She was short, but built more solidly than the slight girls that populated the school, which gave her more of a presence. She personified the old saying,"as dark as a Spaniard," with olive skin and hair as dark as Sarah's own. Grinning, she plunked her tray down on the table and took the last seat next to Matt.

"A newcomer. Welcome, traveler. I'm Cecilia," she said.

"Cecilia's our local witch," Alan commented.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Cecilia asked, irritated. "I'm a sorceress, not a witch. You don't see _me_ fiddling with herbs and rituals now, do you?"

"How do we know you don't have a secret store somewhere?"

"Because you've seen my house. There isn't room to hide a dust bunny, let alone a workshop."

"Okay, pax! Pax!" cried Lily. She turned to Jareth. "They'll keep this up for the entire period if nobody stops them. Celi, this is Sarah's new vassal, Jareth."

"Vassal? Que haces, Sarah? What _have_ you been up to?" She extended her hand to the man. "Mucho gusto."

"Stop showing off, Celi. Always the Spanish." Alan complained.

"What do you expect? Swahili?" She faced Jareth again, who noticed that her eyes were a friendly coffee brown. "My mother's side is Mexican; it tends to pop up now and again. I'll try again: Nice to meet you." Jareth took her hand this time, surprised when she jerked it out of his grip.

"Madre dos santos," she whispered, eyes wide. With surprise, Jareth saw they had turned emerald green. "Who are you?"

"What's wrong, Celi?" Matt asked, concerned. The girl seemed to shake herself and regain her composure, but her eyes remained green.

"Sorry to freak like that, but your magical power is frighteningly strong, stronger than any human's should be. Now that I look, Sarah, your powers are even stronger now. Has he increased your powers somehow?"

"What?" Sarah was dumbfounded. Though they teased Celi about being a witch, none of them really believed she had power. To see her react like this was--unnerving. "Cecilia, you can see magic?"

"Of course. I know you guys don't take me seriously, but I do have magic. You do, too, Sarah. Now more than ever."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you've had magic ever since I met you. But you don't use it, so I couldn't really tell how strong you are. Of course, some days I think you have and it shows up better. So either you've done some serious casting recently or our friend here has been giving you power. So which is it?"

"I really did have magic," Sarah whispered.

"I told you," Jareth said smugly.

"Hey," Cecilia cut in, annoyed. "My original question still stands, _gringo_."

"I am Fae," Jareth replied haughtily. The others filled the girl in while Sarah tried to come to grips with her magic once again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded suddenly. "Celi, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because," the other girl answered calmly, "either you knew or you didn't. I don't know how to work Earth magic; I can draw some power from the Earth, but I work mostly with my own power like Jareth here. I wouldn't have been able to help and I don't know anyone who could teach you. True Earth magic is rare. Telling you would have served no purpose." She sighed. "A lot of times it's easier not knowing.

"Anyway--" She was cut off by someone lumbering up to the table.

"So, witch, who's this? Another fairy for your little group?" A tall brunet sneered at them. Cecilia's face became disdainful, but Jareth noticed the flash of green in her now brown eyes. The others wore angry or grim expressions. Alan tensed next to him. Jareth himself was puzzled.

"Is this lout unusually perceptive, or am I missing something?" he asked Sarah in a low voice.

"Fairy is another word for homosexual," she hissed back. It didn't explain much.

"Why does he want to know?" he asked innocently. "Is he interested? I have to admit, men don't interest me and he's not a particularly prepossessing specimen."

Lily heard him and started giggling. The corners of Cecilia's mouth twitched. Matt grinned. Sarah covered her face with her hand, her shoulders shaking. Alan answered quietly, "Grant is implying that you are not a 'real' man."

"Really?" Jareth was extremely amused. "How quaint."

Suddenly, Grant was beside him, his face twisted. "Is there something you wanted to say to me, fag?" he asked Alan, who merely looked at him. "And you shut up, you black bitch. No one laughs at me."

Jareth could tell from the way Sarah was shaking that she was angry and that this boy had gone beyond the pale. Before Grant could blink, Jareth was out of his chair, his hand wrapped around the boy's neck, lifting him off the floor.

"That was not very intelligent, Grant. Where I come from, we maintain a proper respect for ladies."

"That ain't a lady," Grant wheezed. "That," he pointed to Cecilia, "ain't one either."

Jareth lifted him higher. "Then you must be blind, boy. I see three ladies sitting at that table that you owe an apology to, and I'm afraid I must insist upon it." He smiled calmly. Grant watched him, horrified.

"I--I apologize," he choked out.

"That is much better," Jareth continued, sounding for all the world like he was carrying on a conversation at a garden party. "In the future, you will maintain a level of linguistic acceptablity. Do you understand?" The boy shook his head, no longer able to speak.

"Watch your language," the man snapped. "Is that clear enough?" Grant nodded and, satisfied, Jareth dropped him to the floor. "It is always so distressing to deal with morons," he commented, resuming his seat at the table. "Now what were we discussing?"

The discussion was interrupted again by the bell ringing. The crowd immediately ran and the six stood to return their trays. Grant hauled himself up from the floor, gasping. "I'll get you for this, you bastard," he panted. "I'll get all of you."

"Some people never know when to quit, even less than you, Sarah," Jareth commented. "May I?"

He hadn't had any fun for a while, Sarah thought. So why not? "Knock yourself out," she told him.

Two seconds later, Grant found himself in an oubliette set underneath the Bog of Eternal Stench. He rapidly discovered the walls weren't watertight.


	16. A Theory or Two

To the Victor Go the Spoils

I really ought to be writing my Hamlet paper. But, eh, what's a little more Labyrinth among authors? I'm sure Shakespeare will understand. Now if only my professor would . . . Anywho, round up the disclaimers and brand 'em. Our theme today is Look of Love by Madonna. Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 16 ~ A Theory or Two

Cecilia glanced at her friend as they sat next to each other through the last class of the day. Sarah had been pensive ever since lunch, her face void of expression. Celi wanted to help, but she knew there were things Sarah had to accept on her own. God knew that Cecilia had had a hard enough time with that on her fifteenth birthday. A magical gift wasn't all it's cracked up to be. But she had dealt with it and learned slowly and painfully what she could do.

She only hoped Sarah could find a teacher.

Cecilia was worried, but decided that one couldn't pass up the opportunity to get to know a true Fae. Between classes and making sure Sarah was where she needed to be, the girl chatted with the Goblin, er, Lord. He told her the details of the past few days, but only in respect to Sarah's magical experiences. Celi had a feeling he was leaving quite a bit out. Eh. The man hadn't had anyone to really have a conversation with in a century. Stood to reason he'd be a little closed mouthed. Besides, from what she could read of his mind (which wasn't much, since they'd only had brief physical contact and he had a number of barriers) he really seemed concerned about Sarah. She wondered if he knew he was concerned.

The girl jogged Sarah's shoulder, relieved when awareness blinked its way in. "Hey, chica, it's time for auditions." Sarah's face lit with a mixture of anticipation and dread. With the play replicating her experiences, neither surprised Cecilia much. "Jareth, are you going to read the Goblin King for us?" she asked wickedly. "I'm sure you'd do marvelously."  


He gave her an answering grin. "If my lady wishes, I would be delighted."

The gym was packed with students, most of them in one of two groups. For once, Sarah felt undeniably grateful for Jareth's presence at her back. Though she was passionate about acting, she had found that she wasn't often welcome among the other players; there was something different about them that bound them together while leaving her on the outside. It was easier since Celi had started acting as well, but she couldn't deny that Jareth's strong presence was--comforting, perhaps? Certainly not dependable, but after that display at lunch, she felt a little more secure with him. Maybe she was just getting used to him.

Sarah listened dimly to Celi and Jareth's conversation, her thoughts turning once more to the revelations from lunch. Confirmation from one of her closest friends, the only person who she felt shared her background, of her magical ability had shaken her. She had told herself she believed Jareth, but hearing the news from someone she trusted implicitly still made an enormous difference in how real the situation felt to her.

"Celi?" she asked abruptly, interrupting the girl mid-sentence. "How did you learn magic?"

Eyebrow raised, Cecilia answered, "I learned by sheer force of will. On my quinceañera, my fifteenth birthday, I awoke to find that I was levitating all of the objects in my room. It scared the hell out of me. No one in my family has any ability, so there was no one to teach me. Hell, my mother's side believes witches are evil. I couldn't tell them. It took a while for me to accept it. But once I did, I grit my teeth and learned the limits of what I could do. Having Hitoshii believe in me helped a great deal."

"Hitoshii knows?" Sarah was surprised. She had assumed that if Celi's closest friends didn't really know, then her boyfriend wouldn't, either.

Celi nodded. "It's a long story, but he has power, too, and both our magics are very much bound to each other. Don't worry, Sarah, we'll find some way of controlling and channeling your magic."

"It makes sense, then," Sarah persisted, "that no one told you about your magic. But why didn't abuela tell me? She must of known; she taught me the dances."

"Jareth told me about that," Cecilia affirmed. "Maybe she felt like I did, that your knowing wouldn't have made a difference. You were a lot younger then and she didn't have a lot of time to teach you. It's easier to deal with the modern world if you feel you're more or less like everyone else. You weren't ready, so she taught you control and let you live your childhood without having to worry about it." She shrugged. "That's what makes sense to me, anyway."

"I don't know. . ." Sarah's voice trailed off uncertainly. It sounded like something _a_ grandmother would do, but would _her_ grandmother do that? Abuela had never seemed to shield her from realities. But then, that period in her life had not been one of the most stable. Mother had left and Dad had remarried. Sarah had been very angry and very unsure of herself. She still wondered a lot of times why her mother hadn't taken her with her. 

Jareth laid his hand hesitantly on her shoulder. "Your friendly speaks wisely," he told her quietly. "But for real answers, you must ask your grandmother. Do not waste time doubting something you cannot answer."

"Man's got a point," Cecilia agreed. "Stop brooding. It's almost time for your audition, anyway. And Mr. Cantiello agreed to let Jareth play opposite you."

"He did?" Sarah's eyes grew round. "What scene are we doing?"

It wasn't hard to read Sarah with her aura sparking the way it was, but Cecilia kept her face bland. "First the final monologue, then the ballroom scene. The monologue's the test, you know, but Cantiello wants to see if he can find some good chemistry right off the bat, so he's having all the Sarah candidates do the ballroom. Glad I'm not trying for your part. You're a shoo-in."

"What are you trying for, then?" Jareth asked.

She grinned. "The junk lady," she replied. "It's fun to play the voice of temptation sometimes. I only wish I had the chance to play you. You've got some great lines. But Cantiello doesn't like gender-crossing, even if we don't have enough guys." She made a face. "He cuts the parts rather than put girls in them. Idiot."

Just then, a short, round man walked up to them. "Sarah, it's your turn."

"Yes, sir," she answered nervously. "Now, no funny business," she hissed at Jareth.

"Who, me?" he looked as innocent as a newborn.

"Yes, you. I'm trusting you."

"You can depend upon me, milady," he said gallantly, kissing her hand with an extravagant bow. But for all his theatrics, there was an undercurrent of sincerity. Cecilia smiled as she watched them. This ought to be good.


	17. Duellistes

To the Victor Go the Spoils

Hola! Just a note: Cecilia is actually an incarnation of my alter-ego, Ladymage, so she doesn't properly belong in this reality. Her history is long and complicated, but basically the thing to remember is that she is, by my definition, a mage. Her magical abilities stem directly from her innate strength and her will. Also, this life is her first reincarnation from her original existance as the Ladymage. Since I don't want her interfering too much, Cecilia will probably disappear once this plot tangent is finished and we get back to what was supposed to be happening already. *sigh* Anyway, the theme for today is Sora no Soko by Takehito Koyasu. Have fun!

Ladymage Samiko ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 17 ~ Duellistes

There were no spotlights, no special effects. No costumes, no makeup. No magic. Just two people standing in the middle of a gymnasium floor. Jareth stood silently, watching Sarah with unblinking eyes. She stared back at him, uncertain. They were about to replay her victory. What kind of emotions was she about to rake up? The Goblin King had been arrogant and irritatingly self-confident. Sarah could only imagine how humbling it had been to lose to a girl who probably wasn't even a fraction of his age who had brought only her humanity to the game. Should she force him to do this again? Looking at the blank face he displayed, she realized that there wasn't anything else she could do. He hadn't objected, which meant either he was hiding from it or it hadn't been that important to him. To ask him now would be showing him that she didn't believe. _Believe in what?_ her mind asked. Sarah didn't know. His strength perhaps? Or his honor? Either way, it was done. They would re-enact their lives over again.

"Sarah, we're waiting," Mr. Cantiello's voice broke in.

"Yes, sir," her voice came out pale and a few of Cantiello's pet actresses snickered. Their laughter gave Sarah the determination she needed to begin.

Cecilia watched, fascinated, from the stands as the scene unfolded. She was mesmerized not only by the dramatic tension the pair created, but by their magical auras. Jareth had explained to her in detail the tricks of Sarah's power, it's reaction to strong emotion and will. Of Fae magic, he had said little, but she knew that it didn't take much emotion to call upon it. And, of course, Sarah now possessed Fae magic.

Both Sarah's and Jareth's magic were glowing like mad.

It was as though they truly believed themselves back in the Goblin King's castle. Every word, every gesture flowed from them and echoed itself in magic. Cecilia glanced at the other students, who were enthralled by what they viewed as simple chemistry. It frightened Cecilia. She trusted the Goblin King to control his own magic, though he looked just as wrapped up in the past, but Sarah was dealing with power she didn't know how to control. And the level of power in the room was climbing rapidly beyond any Cecilia would dare even try to use. The two powers struck and pressed at each other, seeking dominance, seeking ultimate victory. Her own magic seemed to be very similar to Fae magic, but without Hitoshii to work off of, Cecilia didn't dare try to interfere in what was a very exclusive duel.

"Through dangers untold," Sarah repeated calmly, persistantly. Cecilia wanted to scream at her to stop. Instead, she dug her fingers into the wooden bleachers and created a shield around her and the others in the stands, gritting her teeth and praying it would hold.

"Through hardships unnumbered." Cecilia suddenly felt a weight pressing against the shield, a weight that tasted of despair, then it vanished suddenly, leaving what could only be described as a magical vacuum. The girl struggled to keep her magic from filling in the space that had been left by the disappearance of the Fae's magic. Sarah's continued to grow.

"You have no power over me!" she shouted triumphantly, proudly. Cecilia's shield buckled as the earth itself spasmed and rolled underneath them with the instant release of power.

The girls began to scream while the teacher tried to get everyone to go underneath the stands. Cecilia rolled between the boards to land heavily underneath them and watched the chaos from there. She wasted no attention on the civilians in the room; she saw Jareth shake himself as though awakening and an expression of surprise and fear cross his face. She saw Sarah collapse to her hands and knees, clearly terrified. She saw Jareth rush towards her, momentarily stopped by the force of Sarah's power. She saw his determined passage through it and saw him both magically and physically shield her friend.

Reluctantly, the earth slowed and finally stopped its tremors. The building was surprisingly undamaged, as were most of the students, but several of the girls were having hysterics. Cantiello sent them to the nurse's office with a few of their friends.

"Well," he said. "Now that's over, shall we continue? You two must do the ballroom scene."

Eyes peered up through gold hair and brown, blinking. The two stood. Wide green eyes stared at them.

The show must go on.


	18. Amantes

To the Victor Go the Spoils

Hola minna! Short & sweet: themes are either _Love-Lost in the Pain_ by Chisato or _Charade_ sung by Andy Williams (from movie of the same name). Oddly enough, the Labyrinth music doesn't quite fit. Eh. Round up the disclaimers and brand 'em. Have fun!

Ladymage Samiko ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 18 ~ Amantes

Sarah got to her feet shakily, nearly falling over until Jareth caught her. She looked up at him, uncertain what to say. How do you apologize for nearly killing someone? Well, she hadn't, but she had been so caught up in the past that she had wanted to win more than anything else.

She had wanted him dead.

She noticed him looking down at her. Perhaps she was learning to read just a little better, but it seemed as though a tiny glimmer of compassion peeked through the impassive mask.

"I--" she began, before he placed a finger on her lips.

"Unnecessary, Sarah," he told he quietly. "Let the past be reburied." He let her go so abruptly she almost fell to the floor again.

And she still didn't know what to say.

"Okay, folks, let's do it!" Mr. Cantiello's voice filled the gymnasium and, obediently, the remaining students began to fill the gym floor, separating Sarah and Jareth.

The atmosphere of the ealier scene had been broken and the small crowd of high school students was a poor substitute for the masked horde in the ballroom. Still, Sarah couldn't see Jareth any more and that worried her. Was he really all right? She had felt the power in the room, but she had no idea how that might have affected him. Surely nothing she could do would be able to even touch him. He was the Goblin King, no matter what he told her, and possessed power beyond her imagining. He had to be fine. And yet, why couldn't she find him? Where was he?

Her search became more frantic as she came upon person after person, colliding with them, nearly running. Finally, flustered, her hands met with a familiar chest and her head tilted up. Jareth.

Before she could speak, he gave her that dazzling smile that, until then, had been just a dim memory, and gracefully manuevered her into the classic dance position. Staring at him, she told herself over and over, "It's just an act. It's just an act." And yet, acting couldn't begin to answer for what was flowing over and around her.

He drew her expertly across the floor, to music that Sarah felt rather than heard. Though he maintained his distance, she was acutely aware of the warmth of his bare hands in hers and at her waist. And, as though the magical working had opened a window in her mind, she felt the Fae power in them. The best description she could give of it--for she did not see it in the manner Cecilia did--was of warm sandalwood and molten silver. Nearly, but not quite, burning, an almost electrical feel. It played and mingled with her own power, which took turns flowing into his and pushing it away.

Slowly, he pulled her to him. "Just let go," his voice urged. "Let it happen."

She leaned her head against his chest, trying to decide what she should do. Her reverie was broken when she felt his hands clutch her convulsively. His power battered into her like the owl had battered the window. She gasped and pulled away from him.

His face was tight, eyes closed. He was fighting something and the strength that something had frightened Sarah. She fought to say something, anything.

"Jareth?" Her voice sounded high, like a frightened child's.

"Sarah, I need to get out of here," he said hoarsely. The difference from his usual rich tones scared her still more. She looked around, fixing her eyes on Cecilia, pleading. The girl responded instantly, rushing down the bleachers.

"We have to go," Sarah whispered. Cecilia nodded and together, they slipped Jareth's arms over their shoulders and began to move towards the door.

"Sarah?" Mr. Cantiello called. "What's wrong?"

"He's having an allergic reaction, Mr. C.," she replied, surprisingly sounding calm. "His medicine's in my bag."

"Do we need to call an ambulance?"

"No, he'll be fine once we get his things."

With that, they went through the door into the men's locker room.

Luckily, no one was in there. "Jareth?" Sarah asked. "Jareth, what's wrong? What's happening?" Even to herself, she sounded frantic. And she was justified, for as soon as the door had closed, Jareth had collapsed to the floor, gasping.

"Get the key," he told her. "Send me back to the Underground."

"What?"

"Just do it, Sarah! Please." The 'please' was faint, but it was enough to both terrify Sarah and convince her. The Goblin King never said please. She reached into the dimensional pocket and pulled out the crystal.

"How do I use it?"

"Turn it this way and it will show you your dreams," his laughter rasped. Sarah rolled the crystal between her hands until the energy felt right and she and Jareth vanished, leaving Cecilia alone in an empty room.


	19. I Won't Go

To the Victor Go the Spoils

Grr. . . I lost over half of this last night when my computer crashed. Oh, well, maybe today's version is better. Semester finals approach, so posting will be random, but I _will_ finish this. Sooner or later. Our theme today is _Saishuushou_ by Inoue Takehide from _Bronze: Zetsuai Since 1989_. Round up the disclaimers, etc. Have fun!

Ladymage Samiko ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 19 ~ I Won't Go

Whether by Jareth's conscious direction or Sarah's unwitting one, both she and the Goblin King found themselves back on the bare hill. Jareth knelt upon the ground, losing control over the illusion so that he once more appeared in his customary flowing shirt and waistcoat. Sarah, momentarily distracted by her surroundings, once more turned towards him, concerned, but more to try to get him to tell her what in the hell was going on. She found the question no longer important as she felt the power rising around him. It remained in a close sphere around him, though it grew beyond what she had felt in the school gym earlier. The level of power frightened her, but she was determined to stand her ground.

She came close to regretting that decision.

Without warning, the ball of magic exploded, sending power in in a single general direction. Sarah threw her arms up in an effort to protect herself from the raw, destructive energy. It burned along her forearms, making them feel as if they were being stripped of skin. Sarah grit her teeth and braced herself more firmly against the flow.

Just as suddenly, it was over. The magic stopped tearing at her. Sarah began to make her way to the form that had not moved from its earlier position. She was stopped when, seconds later, she was given over to a splitting headache, as though someone had taken a cleaver to her skull. She screamed as the pain overtook her and collapsed to the ground, gasping. It receded somewhat, but she was left with a steady throbbing in the back of her head. Sarah remained on all fours as she attempted to process what was going on.

Once she could cope with, if not understand, the pain, Sarah got to her feet and looked around for Jareth. She was surprised to find him in the same position in the same place he had been when they arrived. Her first instinct had been that, being at the center of such magic, Jareth would have been destroyed. Another possibility, which she immediately dismissed, was that he had tricked her into bringing him here, a place where he could easily destroy her. Either scenario would have meant his disappearance. But he had not moved.

"Jareth?" she called, staggering toward him.

"Go away, Sarah," came the nearly inaudible answer. She came closer, enough to see the blood running down his palms from where his nails dug into them. She stared at him.

"Leave!" he ground out savagely, his arm spasming out to knock Sarah several yards away. Frightened, hurt, and even more determined than she had been traversing the Labyrinth, she rose to her feet.

"No, Jareth," she yelled. "I won't go!" There was no answer from the kneeling figure. 

Sarah wrapped her arms around herself in a vain search for reassurance. She flinched as she felt the pain shoot through her raw forearms. Raising her head, she stopped as she once again was granted the vision of the Labyrinth.

Sorrow overwhelmed her as she gazed at the obliterated chunks of land. One was older, covered evenly by grey ash. The second was new with piles of the stuff scattered here and there. Sarah's jaw dropped. That must be where the power that hit her had gone. How had she survived a blast of such magnitude?

_Sarah, yourpowers are even stronger now_. Cecilia's words. How powerful was she? How powerful was Jareth? How powerful was the thing that was riding him?

Gathering her courage, Sarah made her way over to Jareth. He knelt in the same place, his head bowed so that his hair hid his face. The only sign he was alive was the still freely flowing blood that welled around fingers. "Jareth?" she asked quietly, uncertainly. When she received no answer, she hesitantly lifted her hand to move the screen of tawny hair.

Nothing. His eyes were blank, unseeing, as though the Jareth who usually looked arrogantly out of them had suddenly decided to move out. Sarah could try to get through to him, but there was really no one home to answer. Desperately, she tried to pry his fingers apart, to keep the nails from digging in to the bone. She couldn't do that, either. They were closed as tightly as if steel bands bound them shut. Sarah couldn't begin to shift them except by breaking his fingers.

The girl screamed her frustration as she flung herself away. There was nothing--nothing!--she could do! He was obviously in pain and she was helpless to do anything!

Sarah was not accustomed to feeling helpless.

"Dammit, Jareth." she cried. "What can I do? What in God's name can I do?" The wind picked up, blowing cool against the tears that tracked down her cheeks.

Her hands felt the gritty dirt beneath them. The earth. Earth magic. Her head flew up. She had power, she _knew_ she had power. Fae magic was too uncertain, too chancy. She didn't know what she was doing. But her Earth magic. . . She knew the dance for healing, she knew the tune. It was a long shot at best; this wasn't Earth, after all.

But how many other options did she have?

Sarah set her jaw and stood up. The music began to play in her mind and almost unconsciously, her body began to move.


	20. A Miracle is All I Ask

To the Victor

Phew! Finally finished with this part! Anyways, a big hug and thanks go out to all my reviewers. If it wasn't for you, I'd tell the Goblin King who keeps poking me to bugger off and let me get some work done. I do appreciate it. You all brighten my day! So. . . Themes: _Dance Scene_ from the _Mask of Zorro_ for the first bit, Track 10 from _Angel Sanctuary OST_ for the middle, Ravel's _Bolero_ for the last. I know it's a lot, but, eh, you can decide whether or not you want to listen. Round up the disclaimers, brand 'em, and have fun!

Ladymage Samiko ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 20 ~ A Miracle is All I Ask

It began slowly, with clumsy, uncertain movements. The rhythm built slowly, then ever faster, giving way to quicksilver movements, mostly graceful, occasionally jerky. A pause, a hesitation, then whirling back into motion. The dance steadied for some time, still full of life, but not quite as hurried as it had been. It was almost monotony, and yet, was she not slower than she had been a minute ago? Was her arm moving more stiffly? It was long in coming, but the dance now made its way as though through molasses. With a final swift outflung motion, it was over. The girl was now huddled on the ground motionless.

But it wasn't over. She burst forth from the closed position, arms outflung in joy. The dance took on an ethereal quality as she leapt and spun, no longer earthbound. If she could have controlled the Fae magic, who knows? She may truly have sprouted wings and flown. And that was how the dance ended, in joy, in movement, in life. Sarah felt the miraculous burst of energy released as she sank to her knees, breathing heavily. She sent a prayer up with it.

The spell held in it the essence of growing things, of green, fresh life tinged with an edge or iridescence that bespoke otherworldly elements. It rippled out from the center with the quiet movement of a small pool. It spread towards Jareth.

And flowed around him as water flows around a stone in its path.

Nothing. she had been able to do nothing. Sarah collapsed, her eyes shut tightly in defeat. She couldn't do it. What good was her magic for if she couldn't do something that needed to be done?

She stayed like that for some time, tears slowly escaping the corners of her eyes. All of a sudden, she raised her head, blinking in surprise. The headache that had lurked in the back of her head was gone, completely gone. She had managed to ignore it, so the fact that it was no longer there startled her. As she sat there, something caught her eye. She stood and walked toward the Labyrinth, gasping at what she saw.

The large, decimated tracts of land were completely regrown. More than that, the entire Labyrinth seethed with the colors of flowers and plants that had grown over the walls and paths. It was a riot of delicious greens, midnight blues, royal purples. Even the blackened tree beside her was covered with deep pink blossoms.

For the first time, Sarah felt that, even if it had been as empty as before, the Labyrinth was beautiful. Its vast wildness, its twisty ways, all of it was enough to take her breath away.

A soft, almost inaudible, grunt reached her ears and she turned, eyes shining. Jareth now lay bonelessly sprawled along the now grass covered earth. She ran and knelt next to him, pulling head and shoulders gently onto her lap.

"Jareth?" she asked. He was ghostly white and Sarah wasn't sure she could even feel him breathe. "Are you all right?" She received no answer, for he was unable to give one, but slowly his eyes filled with awareness. With that awareness came pain and anger, which it hurt to see, but the worst was over and Sarah was glad.

She looked seriously into his eyes, seeing blue light and black depths. No, not black, but a blue so dark one had to be close to see it. Blue, light and dark. The color of the heavens. The color of eternity.

Sarah gaped at him, no longer really seeing him, as she came to a realization. _She had been dancing the wrong spell._ Jareth was Fae. He was immortal. Sarah had danced as her grandmother had taught her. She had danced to heal things mortal. Quickly, but ever so gently, she laid his head back on the grass. Walking quickly, she found the spot where she had cast the last spell, which was still quivering with magic. Taking a deep breath, she chose her music and began to dance once more.

She moved with a majestic grace and grandeur, slowly, methodically. At first, she moved lightly, a spring in her step. As the music played on in her head, she became ever so slightly heavier, just a touch slower. The movements cycled over and over. A sudden stop. A continuation just where she left off. Sarah concentrated, letting herself be guided by the music and magic. She had never, ever, thought to craft a spell like this, and this one was dangerous because it could continue indefinitely. An immortal dance for an immortal life. With growing uneasiness and uncertainty, Sarah danced on, drawing it out, then--now!--cutting it.

The spell once more flowed out from here, no longer a small pool, but with the languid ripples of a bottomless lake that contained its own form of life. She felt it flow over that which her previous spell had touched and continue on. The waves turned in on themselves and all the power in the spell returned to one place. Jareth.

Slowly, she turned to face him. The Goblin King, standing, imposing and dangerous, in all his dark glory.


	21. Book of Kings

To the Victor

Finally! I know I've been keeping everybody waiting, and I am sorry. Once this next week is over, I'll be much more reliable. Promise! At least Jareth was kind enough to stop poking me long enough to get my work done. Anyway, a big thanks to my reviewers. You remind me why I keep writing! Our theme today is _Mizu no Naka no Chiisana Taiyou_ sung by Hiro Yuuki of Weiss Kreuz. Round up the disclaimers again and have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 21 ~ Book of Kings

Staring at his flashing eyes and grim face, Sarah once more felt the frisson of fear run through her as it had when she first laid eyes on the Goblin King. No mistake, she was faced with the king, not the man. And she stood her ground.

"What. are. you. doing. here?" he ground out. "I told you to leave."

"And I told you, Jareth, that I wouldn't go. How could I leave when I thought you were dying?"

"Sarah, I am immortal. I don't die. This is a personal matter which you have no business meddling in!"

"Well, I didn't know that. I was just trying to make sure you're all right!"

"That isn't necessary, Sarah. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. But I'm not going to leave you alone after what I just saw!"

"I don't need your pity, Sarah!" he snarled at her. "Why, why can you never do as I wish!"

"Because you have no power over me!" she hissed back him. Realizing what she'd said she clapped her hands over her mouth.

Jareth reeled back a step as though she had hit him. Then his face hardened and his eyes blazed. He quickly strode across the distance between them. "I don't, do I," he growled, grabbing Sarah by the back of the head before the girl could react and slamming his lips down on hers.

It was hard, angry, and punishing. Sarah pushed away and the Goblin King let her, looking down on her coldly. She stared at him wide-eyed in shock for several seconds. How could he do this? Her eyes began to water and before he could blink, she punched him in the stomach. "You bastard," she grated and ran before Jareth could regain his breath and notice the tears streaming from her cheeks.

Sarah ran to the only thing that seemed comforting in this place: the Labyrinth. She quickly found an entrance and made her way blindly through the passages, oddly enough encountering no dead ends or malicious traps.

_Idiot! _she berated herself. _You should know better! He may not be evil incarnate, but he's still the Goblin King. What did you expect back there? Thanks? Perhaps, just perhaps, a little bit of human warmth? Not bloody likely, Sarah! He's immortal Fae and his definition is cruelty. So just accept it! That bastard, just what did he think he was doing! I ought to string him up by his nuts and see how he likes that!_

She stopped exhausted, leaning against a wall covered in purple flowers striped with blue. But there were no more tears. Sarah had filled herself with righteous indignation and anger.

The girl was distracted by a nudge on her shoulder. Turning her head, she saw that several of the flower-tipped vines were snuggling up to her like puppies. "You are gorgeous," she whispered, turning to offer them her hands. They nuzzled them, then bumped her fingers. She obliged, petting the flower "heads" and vines.

Sarah was so engrossed in her new friends that she jumped when she heard a voice behind her.

"You must be the new queen," it commented. "Welcome to the Labyrinth, Your Majesty." She whirled to face a small brown rabbit.

"Thank you," she replied. "But how did you know I'm the queen? And, if I'm not being too rude, who and what are you?"

"It's easy to tell," the rabbit replied. "Your positively covered with Labyrinthine magic and you're obviously not from here. Besides, who else except for Jareth can get within ten feet of snakeshead vines and not get bitten?"

"Bitten?" Sarah backed away from the vines, studying them dubiously.

"Didn't you know? The flowers are venemous and terribly fond of humans. To eat, that is. You shouldn't worry, though. Like I said, both you and King Jareth are the only ones who are perfectly safe; they _like_ you. Oh, by the by, I'm Creo, local dust bunny."

"A dust bunny?" Sarah asked in disbelief, kneeling to peer at the small creature, who did indeed appear to be made of dirt, lint, and other bits and pieces. Regaining her composure, she held out her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Cleo. My name is Sarah." The bunny placed his paw in her hand and nodded.

"And I, too, am very pleased to meet you. Why, I haven't seen the Labyrinth look this cheerful in, oh, about a millennium, I believe."

"You're more than a millennium old?"

"That's right. Dust bunnies are nearly, but not quite, immortal. We also have perfect memories, by the way, which makes us the best chroniclers of Labyrinthine events. And none of us will ever pretend we know something. We share only information we are perfectly sure of."

"Oh. So why hasn't the Labyrinth been like this for a millennium?"

"Well, it's like this. You should know that you are not the first person who has wished away a child. Over the centuries many have wanted to be rid of their burdensome relative or charge. Of course, only a few can ever figure out the right words. So they wish their brother or sister or son or daughter or whatever away and are given the same options you were. Some say good riddance and are trapped into their dreams. They can never again join this world and the children are turned into goblins. And being a goblin means you take your chances here same as any other creature. More if you stick around the king. Anyway, others choose the same as you, and attempt to solve the Labyrinth. Most fail and end up either dead or lost in an oubliette or wander the Labyrinth until they die."

"How terrible! Shouldn't they be allowed to go? They _did_ try after all, and that's what counts. The Labyrinth is a difficult puzzle."

"Well, as far as I can tell, it's more of a blessing for them. Going through the Labyrinth means they either felt guilty or afraid of their folks or actually did love the child. Once they fail, they usually feel that they can't go back and face what happened or that they have to do penance for their sin.' It's a silly notion, but being here makes them feel better, in a way."

"I-- I guess that makes sense," Sarah said slowly, thinking about how she would have felt if she hadn't succeeded in saving Toby.

"Glad you understand. You're a lot brighter than I expected. Some of the most successful people aren't really smart, you know, just tremendously stubborn. You're not quite as stubborn, I think, but you have a lot more intelligence. Anyway, the last time someone actually did succeed in defeating the Labyrinth was a thousand and twelve years ago. The young man's name was Philip and he was a terribly gentle soul. Sweetest human I ever knew. Anyway, he was given care of his little brother and while I never heard the entire story--Philip wouldn't speak of it--I got the feeling he said it more in jest than anything else. The little boy, Elis, was a bright looking lad about six or so and just as nice as Philip, though more selfish because he was younger, you understand. So Philip made it through the Labyrinth and rescued his brother, who was sent back to their farm. However, he felt terribly guilty he had allowed the entire thing to happen in the first place, so when the King told him he was the new King, Philip decided to exile himself to the Underground.

"However, this was the first time the King had ever been defeated. He was very angry and bitter. Though he respected Philip's orders, he treated the lad abominably. There wasn't too much after his initial rage, but he left the lad to his own devices, which meant he made quite a few nasty mistakes. He had magic, but no knowledge of how to control it. The Labyrinth's natural inhabitants, like the vines and myself, are friendly to their rulers, but those who are foreign, some species of faires, trolls, and such recognize no lord and can be very dangerous. He nearly got himself killed a number of times and the king only saved him when there was no other option. Eventually, though, Philip had him tutor him in magic, and he learned quickly. That was when the Labyrinth began to bloom, because, in spite of everything, Philip had fallen in love with Jareth.

"It was doomed from the beginning, of course, for Jareth still carried a deep resentment towards the lad. He would have nothing more to do with him than he had to. Still, Philip didn't realize how long and how fiercely hate could be fostered. For a while he was hopeful. He made the Labyrinth a thing of beauty and tried everything he could think of to gain the king's attention. Innocent! The only thing the king felt for him was a murderous hatred. It came to a head one day; Jareth icy cold on his throne, Philip, poor boy, at his knees pleading with him. Jareth rejected him in no uncertain terms. Philip ran, then, blindly through the labyrinth. No one really saw what happened, but he left a crystal message for the king, who brought his body back the next day. What was in that message is uncertain, but it changed the king. Oh, he was happy as a clam to be the sole ruler of the Labyrinth, but it was tempered somehow. But I'm sure I don't know of anything Philip could have done to make a dent in that man of stone. In any case, Philip was buried in one of the gardens on the far side of the Labyrinth. And that, as they say, was that."

Cleo looked up at Sarah expectantly. "That's so sad," she said quietly. "Poor, poor Philip. He deserved better than that. How could the king be so heartless?"

"He isn't heartless, lady, but he is extremely self-centered and distant. He and this land have existed for millennia. The Labyrinth is his other half and will always be his first concern. He hasn't had a true equal, so he believes himself to be the best, most important being in his world. In his lights, what he thinks and does must be the right way to be. What others want simply doesn't come into the equation. And if that changes..."

"So what if that changes?" Sarah asked. "Everything changes."

"Yes, but you see, that is the one thing he considers immutable, unchangeable. And that is the one thing he will fight like a lion to protect: his pride. However he treats you, lady, remember always that he is a dangerous man when crossed. Turn his world upside-down and you may very well end up wishing you were dead. So watch yourself, and him. He's also clever, which makes him all the more dangerous.

"But, if you'll excuse me, lady, it's high time I returned home for tea. So with your permission..." He began to hop blithely away.

"Wait!" Sarah called. "I know nothing in the Labyrinth is as it appears. So how are you dangerous?"

He turned and smiled, revealing well-pointed teeth. "Because, lady," he replied. "I have the same dietary tastes as the snakeshead." Creo vanished around the corner and Sarah was left alone once more.


	22. 

I really shouldn't be writing this. I have rewrites due tomorrow morning. *sigh* Remind me next time to lock Jareth in the closet so I can work. Um, trying not to give anything away, I must say that the new characters for today _do_ exist. I wrote a serious report about them for class. (Really!) While I was working, I doodled my own concept of what they looked like and developed their characters from there. I'm wondering if I'm going to regret it. Anyway, our theme for today is _Forever With You_ from the anime _Here is Greenwood_. Which is, BTW eerily like life in my dorm. So, round up the disclaimers and have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 22 ~ A Little Light Comedy

Jareth's hand brushed the stone wall of the castle. _My castle no longer_, he thought bitterly. _Now it belongs to _her_._

_NO!_ His fist slammed against the stone, bruising both in the process. _This place is _mine_! It has been mine since creation and will be long after _she _is gone. _Jareth forced himself to calm down with this thought. It was true, after all. Sarah was mortal so long as she believed she was and it meant that she would die, sooner or later. It was simply a matter of time and Jareth could definitely manage to out-wait her.

While the thought was not exactly cheering, it did improve the Goblin Lord's stater of mind as he continued through the castle. All he had to do was wait and everything would return to the way it had been. After all, it hadn't been too long before that fool Philip decided to remove himself. But Sarah, Sarah had infintely more will than that little milk-sop had ever had. She had truly been a worthy opponent. She would continue to be so.

Brooding over this, Jareth finally reached his true home, the one room in the castle that was his no matter what other changes may occur. He opened to door to his bedchamber and stepped inside.

It was a glorious room, set in a tower high above the Labyrinth walls. The floor was carved of ink black onyx, the reflection giving mere mortals a severe sense of vertigo as they seemingly stood on nothingness. The walls and ceiling were of the same stone, enveloping the occupant in a sometimes cold, sometimes warm darkness, either comforting or rejecting. But the crowning glory of the room was that fully half of its round walls were missing, with nothing between the blackness and empty air. Jareth loved to stand on the very edge of that drop, catching the wind in his hands, feeling himself drawn into the infinity of the heavens that were all that could be seen. It was here that he felt the most like his true self and here, far removed from its stone walls and devious traps that he felt most connected to the second half of his soul, the Labyrinth.

He removed his boots, placing them carefully beside the door before gliding to the precipitous edge. Closing his eyes, he felt calm flow through him as he felt his own heartbeat, then opened himself fully to the Labyrinth. There was its lifebeat, matching the rhythm of his own heart. He felt its force pulsing through it as well as through his own veins. And from it he gathered feelings of--deep contentment, almost happiness? His eye opened as he frowned down upon the infinite tracts of stone. Yes, the Labyrinth felt almost joyous and highly protective of something that it contained at its heart. The closest description mere words can give would compare it to a wildcat, content and purring in its lair.

Jareth whirled around, breaking the intimate contact, relegating it to its usual place in the back of his mind. There was no doubt about it, the Labyrinth was welcoming its new queen with open arms, and while Jareth could not help but share his soul's joy, the knowledge that _he_ had not been the one to make it so rankled him. If he had not been the Goblin Lord, there would be a few other adjectives to describe his reaction. But we must leave them be.

Jareth lowered himself onto his bed, which was set into the floor and indistinguishable from the surrounding stone. Laying on his back, he contemplated the ceiling. It could not be said that he was happy when two bright lights appeared, causing the stone to reflect and magnify.

"Well, brother, I should say that friend Jareth is not quite as happy as his kingdom," said one voice.

"So should I," replied another, the exact duplicate of the first. "What hast gotten thee down, cousin?"

Jareth raised his head to look at the pair of faces looking down at him. "The Reshephim," he muttered. "Of course. When life can't get any worse, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum show up to brighten my day."

"Oh, are we too bright?" the first asked dismayed. The light around them dimmed. "We are terribly sorry, cousin; we didst not mean to disturb thee. Overmuch."

"Of course, thou might notice that on this day we are two that visit thee. Dost thou not prefer Tweedle Dum and Dee' to simply Tweedle Dee?'"

It was true. The Reshephim were ancient gods, more akin to elementals than anything else. They favored appearing as St. Elmo's Fire around ship masts, indicating by their number the fortune of those they appeared to. One Resheph foretold rough times ahead. Three spelt disaster. But two meant that fair sailing would soon follow.

As one, the two brothers knelt next to Jareth's bed. Their complexion was the dark red-brown of the Middle East, surrounded by a cloud of long, fine white hair. The first, who preferred the title Reshep, had eyes that glowed like the heart of lightning. The other had eyes of the glowing orange at the edge of a lightning bolt and liked being called Resheph. The brother multiplied at will, though, so almost any variation of their name served.

Both looked worriedly at Jareth. Then they looked at each other as though to reassure themselves of the other's presence.

"He shall be all right," Reshep commented.

"We doth know that, brother. The question is, how hard will he make the journey to that point?"

"Ask me not. We are only bearers of tidings, or dost thou forget?"

"Do not tell me what thou hast forgotten more oft than I," Resheph shot back.

"Pardon me for interrupting this most entertaining conversation, my friends, but perhaps you could stop talking about me like I'm not here?" Jareth commented, annoyed. He moved to sit up, leaning his back against the wall.

"Sorry," Resheph answered, chagrined.

"Thou knowest we are but worried about you." Reshep's liquid fire eyes gazed at the Fae.

"I know, I know. But do you have to continue talking in that outdated fashion. Even I gave up thees' and thous' a couple centuries ago."

The pair's cheeks burned. Literally.

"Whoops." Resheph looked at his brother.

"True," Reshep agreed. He turned back to Jareth. "You know what our job's like, cousin. They still expect us to speak in archaic terms so we can sound suitably impressive. It spills over sometimes and we don't notice."

"Pain in the arse, I say," Resheph grumbled.

"You're telling me," Jareth replied. "Do you know how irritating it is to have to translate you two? Especially when you all start talking in tandem."

Reshep: "I suppose,"

Resheph: "you could say that."

Both of them grinned at Jareth cheekily, who in turn gave them a wry grin. "Anyway, what brings you here?"

Reshep: "Mother."

Resheph: "Who else?"

Reshep: "She noticed how much,"

Resheph: "trouble you seemed to be having."

Reshep: "So she sent us"

Resheph: "to...cheer you up."

"After all," Reshep shrugged. "You don't seem very happy with the situation and she thought you might like to know it will all turn out rather well. She thinks so, at any rate."

"I think so, too, brother," Resheph objected. "I saw it and it looks good to me."

"Well, you heard ol' Tweedle Dum there," Reshep grinned. "So buck up, old boy. You can't enjoy the future if you spend all your time in here brooding about it."

"I am _not_ Tweedle Dum," Resheph remarked indignantly. "And besides, I'd say cousin Jareth's sulking rather than brooding."

"I do _not_ sulk," Jareth returned, just as indignant.

"Yes, you do," Resheph said.

"No, I do not," he replied.

"You do."

"Do not."

"Do."

"Not."

"_Yes, you do_," both brothers chorused, grinning. Jareth was nonplussed.

"Anyway," continued Reshep. "We just thought you'd like to know."

"Yup, and give us a ring if you want some company. We're dying to meet Sarah, you know." The pair stood as Jareth began glowering at them.

"Don't frown at _us_, dear cousin," Reshep told him. "If anything, _you're_ the one who's responsible for the mess you're in. Don't blame us and _don't_ blame Sarah. You didn't have to answer her, you know."

"You should ask youself," Resheph continued as the brothers began to glow brightly.

"Why you did," Reshep finished as the two turned entirely into light and danced away into the night sky.

"Damned heralds," Jareth grumbled. "Always think they know everything." Getting back into bed, he turned on his side and grumped himself to sleep.


	23. 

Hola! Theme: _Dark Flute_ from _Vampire Princess Miyu_. Round up the disclaimers & brand em. Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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Part 23 ~ Eine Kleine Nachtmusik

Sarah didn't move from her spot by the wall until well after darkness had fallen, absently petting the snakeshead as they insistently nuzzled her. For one thing, she didn't think it was wise to continue wandering around the Labyrinth. For another... well, she definitely needed to think. Things had been happening so quickly over the past few days that she really hadn't had any time to consider how she felt about it and how she should deal with the situation.

At least, that's how she tried to think. That self-centered bastard kept intruding.

Unconsciously, she chewed her already bruised lip. She couldn't blame him _entirely_ for what had happened. He was what he was and, though she didn't understand quite how, she _had_ provoked him. However, except for the fact she had said The Words without meaning to (not to be confused with not meaning them), she would not accept responsibility for him! He could damn well answer for his own actions! Creo had told her he was a dangerous man, but it was about time that childish, self-centered, arrogant, whatever-the-hell-he-was learn that he was _not_ the only being in the universe! And that she, at least, did _not_ consider him to be the epitome of anything.

With that determination in mind, Sarah rose so quickly that the sleepy vines bumped against her in indignation. She apologized, then looked around in dismay.

"Oh, dear," she said aloud. Night in the Labyrinth was only a few degrees removed from being pitch black. She could barely see the wall a few inches in front of her, much less find a path that might conceivably lead out of the Labyrinth. It occurred to her that she didn't even know where Jareth was. "Damn," she said, sliding back down to her previous position, her head between her knees.

"Excuse me, but you seem a bit lost," said a soft voice.

Not looking up, Sarah answered, "Not quite lost, just... not sure where I want to go, I guess." She heard a soft chuckle.

"A valid complaint around here," it agreed. "If I may be so bold as to offer my services, then?"

Sarah finally looked up to see a softly glowing, rather insubstantial person standing before her. She blinked, then tried passing a hand through his booted calves. He smiled gently as her hand encountered no more resistance than it would through ordinary air. "You're a ghost," she stated flatly. Somehow, she wasn't surprised.

"I am," the ghost agreed again. "I'm afraid I can't change that fact, not now, anyway. May I join you?"

Sarah nodded and he sat down facing her. "I think I know who you are," Sarah began hesitantly, "but could you tell me your name?"

"I am Philip ap Meredith," the ghost replied. "Former king of this land and now its. . . guardian spirit is perhaps the best term."

Sarah observed the ghost--Philip--more closely now that she knew who he was. He appeared as a lad of seventeen, with close-cropped, inky black hair and eyes. He was dressed in a simple cotte and hose, both a vaguely glowing shade of white. His expression. . . There was a little sadness there, but not what Sarah would have expected given the story Creo had told her. No, his face held, rather, an ancient calm, a peace she couldn't even begin to fathom. She suddenly realized that she had been staring at him, though he hadn't said anything more. She blushed. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I haven't introduced myself. I'm Sarah Williams."

"Yes, I know," he smiled. "The new queen. The Labyrinth sings your arrival. The reaction of its counterpart is somewhat more. . . mixed."

"Sings? Counterpart?" Sarah was baffled. "What are you talking about?"

"The Labyrinth is alive. Surely you can feel its life in the very stones of its walls. The life that pulses through this entire realm." He watched her, head cocked in bewilderment.

"I--" Sarah, for once, paused before she spoke. There. On the edge of her awareness, growing stronger as she recognized it. A kind of heartbeat, a steady rhythm threaded with strands of the spell she had used earlier, with a center that spoke of the secrets that are kept close to the heart and emotions that are felt in your bones and surrounded by bright Players' faces that guarded this knowledge from recognition. It was a complex being that Sarah despaired of ever truly knowing, until she looked within herself and found the same rhythm beating there. "I can," she said wonderingly. "I can feel the Labyrinth. I _am_ the Labyrinth."

"Sarah," the soft tenor broke her thoughts gently. "You are not the Labyrinth. That belongs to its counterpart, its second soul. You carry a piece of the Labyrinth within you, but the likeness you see is entirely of your own being."

"You mean," Sarah mused bitterly, "that I am like the Labyrinth. I have the power and knowledge, but I hide it behind the masks. I hide it from everyone including myself."

"It isn't a nice thing to discover about oneself," Philip said quietly.

"No. I always thought I, at least, could see myself clearly."

"No one can, Sarah. We all have things about ourselves we don't want to recognize, things, in a way, we are better off not knowing. It wasn't until I died that I could face them, and it was very painful."

"How did you die?" Sarah asked suddenly. "Creo said nobody knew."

Philip gave a wry smile. "That little one. No, it's one of the secrets the Labyrinth guards best."

"If you'd rather not say anything. . ." Sarah's words were waved away.

"Not at all. I was, perhaps, a little hasty, but I made the right decision. Death was what I needed. Life would have held nothing but torture for me, for Jareth, for the Labyrinth. I wasn't needed or wanted alive. I have nearly everything I want now I'm dead. But to answer your question, I simply gave myself up to the Labyrinth. It surrounded me, took me into itself, and that's the last I knew until I watched Jareth take my body back to the castle. Poor Fae. He really felt nothing but triumph, you know. I was a constant thorn in his side."

"That's terrible!" Sarah exclaimed. "How can you take it so calmly! You loved him and he despised you!"

He looked directly into her eyes. "And nothing could have changed that," he told her. "Jareth is what he is. He'll change, everyone does with time, but never so completely. Jareth he is and Jareth he'll remain. I finally understood that the day I died. If I had lived a thousand years, he never would have been able to love me. I accepted that and made my choice. If you are to have any kind of relationship with Jareth, even just business, you have to accept that. Accept him for what he is and realize he can't change that even if he wanted to. Don't ask it of him."

"You still love him, don't you?" Sarah marveled. "That stubborn, arrogant, evil man. You still love him."

"He isn't evil!" Philip replied harshly, then calmed. "Stubborn, arrogant, I grant you. Selfish, opinionated, inconsiderate, hard-hearted. . . I've had a millennium to find words to describe him, Sarah, but evil isn't one of them. I should think you would have realized that by now."

Sarah's mouth opened and closed again as her thoughts drifted back over the past few days. Jareth cheerfully lying to her parents. Backed up against a wall, surrounded by cheerleaders. Standing at the front door in her apron, his hands dripping with soapsuds. Showing her how to manipulate the Fae magic. Laughing with her on the floor of her room.

"You see?" Philip made a motion like he wanted to lay his hand on hers. "He is not a demon. He is many things, but not that. And you have a right to be angry with him. What he did was uncalled for, if not entirely unjustified."

"You saw that?" Sarah's face flushed a bright red. "And what do you mean, not entirely unjustified?' Nothing could justify that!"

"No," he agreed. "But for one, Jareth is a very proud man. He takes pride in his strength, physical and magical and mental. Think on that for a while." The light form stood and appeared to stretch. "I hate to go, but I must leave you to attend to other things. If you press that knob, a passage will open. Turn right to go straight to the castle. And to Jareth. Left will take you to an empty cottage on the outskirts of the Labyrinth. And please. Think on what I said." With that, Philip faded into the darkness. Sarah gazed at where he had been for several long moments before finding the stone knob he had shown her. She pressed it and found herself facing a long, dark corridor.

With no more hesitation, Sarah turned right and began to walk.


	24. Walking the Path

To the Victor Go the Spoils

Sorry it took so long to get this out. Didn't mean to keep you waiting. ^_^; To put it in a nutshell: finals, packing, traveling, no connection. But, as John Cusack said, "It's not an excuse; it's a reason." So I ask forgiveness. Gomen ne! So I present two parts this week. Both have _Heaven_ from the _Bronze: Zetsuai Since 1989_ OST as their theme. Have fun!

Ladymage Samiko ;)

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Part 24 ~ Walking the Path

Sarah continued blindly through the pitch blackness, reaching into the Labyrinth to feel the direction she needed to follow. Her hand trailed along the comfortingly ordinary brick wall. She asked herself what she would do when she reached the castle and received no satisfactory answer. She felt she ought to still be angry with him--and she was--but she no longer felt like beating him to a pulp or hanging him by his toes over the Bog. From talking to Philip, she felt she ought to simply accept Jareth as he was and just let everything go. But that didn't feel right either. As a queen, she could sentence him to a month of hard labor or whatever the local equivalent was. However, Sarah wasn't Jareth or Philip or a queen, really. So what should she, as Sarah, do?

After her thoughts had chased themselves in a circle for the thirteenth time, she decided she would just wing it.

The passageway led out into the cellars of the castle and Sarah found herself in a grey granite room surrounded by giant wine barrels and racks of bottles. Curious, she read some of the labels. "Cognac 1282" "Strawberry Champagne 1970" "Bordeaux 1953" "Cotes du Rhone 1981" "Raspberry Cordial 1983"

Raspberry Cordial? Sarah's eyebrows raised as she found at least three large barrels of the stuff, each already tapped. She debated trying some and decided against it. Knowing Jareth, the chances were twenty to one that one sip would send her reeling--either drunk or hallucinatory. Fingers brushing the wood, Sarah continued along the path the Labyrinth showed her.

It led her to a medium sized room set in the back of the castle. Sarah gasped as she entered it. Jet lined the walls in what appeared to be solid sheets of delicate openwork that outlined swirls and curves. The cells created by the piercing were inlaid with pillows of semi-precious stones, lapis lazuli and moonstone covering the ceiling, malachite forming the walls, hematite in a quartz matrix (which lay flush with the jet) in the floor. The entire room gave a rich, dark, seductive glow.

"It's gorgeous," Sarah breathed, delicately stepping in. She felt a light tap on her ankle and started. A pair of hands carved of the same black jet waved at her from the wall near the floor, then pointed at her shoes.

"Oh," she said. "You want to take my shoes off?" One gave her a thumbs up in reply. She gingerly offered them her right foot. "I guess you guys don't talk like the helping hands in the oubliette, huh?" Having gently removed her sock and sneaker and placed it on the floor nearby, the left hand moved horizontally, shaking itself in a no,' then giving a come on' gesture. Sarah gave them her left foot. Curling her toes when they were done, she smiled. "That feels a lot better. Thanks!" The pair formed a smile between themselves, then gestured to the other side of the door. Sarah found there a pair of delicate silk slippers with pointed toes, lined in turtle fur' and slipped them on. After a long day, her feet felt like they were in heaven, and from the cozy grandeur of the rest of the room, Sarah was inclined to agree with them.

A further inspection of the room revealed a second door opposite the first, which led out into an enclosed courtyard. Both were covered in the same cloisonne-style work, set with flat pieces of petrified mahogany. The windows on either side of the outer door were shuttered with the same delicate sheets of jet, without the inlay so as to let in light and air, and so thin Sarah felt she could break them with a mere touch. Suddenly exhausted, she collapsed onto the mahogany bed in the center of the room. Tossing her jeans over the headboard and the slippers next to the bed, she snuggled under the soft sheets and fell asleep wrapped in warmth.

Sarah awoke warm and comfortable the next morning, snuggling under the wine colored sheets. When the light from the windows refused to let her stay there any longer, the girl wriggled quickly into her clothes and, though she hated to leave the gorgeous little room, she made her way into the heart of the castle with a firm resolution: find Jareth. Beyond that, she didn't even try to think.

Reaching for the Labyrinth as she had the night before, she asked it where she could find Jareth. It was puzzled for a little while; it didn't understand what the name Jareth' meant. It was only when Sarah, exasperated, created an image of the Goblin Lord in her mind that the Labyrinth comprehended that she wanted to speak with that part of itself that happened to be Fae. The Labyrinth simply didn't recognize Jareth as a separate entity. When it finally understood, the Labyrinth called her attention to what could almost be described as a magical vein and told her to follow it, which she did gladly.

The vein led up through the empty halls and chambers of the castle. Sarah wondered where the goblins were. They had swarmed the place when she had come for Toby. Was that what the castle was normally like or was this? If it was like this most of the time, an eternity of echoing hallways and cavernous chambers, Sarah could think of feeling a little sorry for Jareth. Had he spent eternity almost entirely alone? Finally, Sarah reached a staircase that spiraled up and up and ended with a small door. Somehow, she forgot to knock--perhaps because no other room in the castle had required it--and quietly opened the door and went in.

Sarah instantly felt welcomed by the darkness of the room, which surrounded her like a pool of thick black ink. A sharp contrast was the pale light that flowed in from the missing side of the tower room. She gasped as she looked out across the acres upon acres of the Labyrinth. Vaguely, she felt a little rush of pride and smugness coming from the Labyrinth equalled by her own pride that this was now _her_ domain. Hers to oversee and command. Hers to protect and shelter. Hers to love.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" came a voice behind her. Sarah whirled around, nearly losing her balance over the edge.

"Careful!" Jareth cautioned. "If you go over, _I_ can't help you."

"You can't--" Sarah looked closely at the form standing behind her, then at the bed. She could still see Jareth's blond mop peeking out of the covers while the man behind her looked vaguely transparent. The girl blanched. "Are you--? is he--?"

"No, no. Jareth is most definitely alive, Sarah," the spirit reassured her quickly.

"Then what--? how--?"

"I am that part of Jareth that he never allows to be seen in his waking hours. I wander during his sleeping hours so that we may achieve some modicum of peace in our existance."

"But what _are_ you?" Sarah persisted.

"I am his humanity, Sarah."


	25. Son of Adam, Daughter of Eve

To the Victor Go the Spoils

As I said before, _Heaven_ is our theme. Also, there's a picture of Resheph on my bio page and the story is now on my homepage. Finally, once again I've mixed in genuine religion/mythology. Lilith appeared in the Hebrew tradition as Adam's first wife, who, as his equal, refused to lie beneath him and fled from Eden. She's reputed to be the mother of demons among other things. Her role here is my imagination at work. Readers of C.S. Lewis will recognize the reference in the title.

Ladymage Samiko ;)

(PS--On my page I've divided the story into "books." Consider this part the end of Book 2 with one more "book" to follow. And yes, I _will_ finish it even if I have to beat it out of the Jareth-muse.)

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Part 25 ~ Son of Adam, Daughter of Eve

"But--but I thought Fae were immortal, not human."

Jareth's spirit eyes were distant. "Fae were human once, Sarah. But we are the children of Adam and Lilith, conceived in Eden. We carry some of the power of that place as well as that of our first mother. This set us apart from the greater part of the human race that flourished according to God's decree while we remained lesser. Still, our power and heritage caused our cousins to fear and hate us through the ages, though after a time they forgot why. The Fae were pushed back time and again by the sheer force and stubborn will of our cousins. One by one, we decided we must abandon our home and we came here to the Underground. Here we honed our powers, grew them until they dominated everything, including us. And so we became immortal, bound to this land and to our magic. Some Fae retain their humanity and have nearly no magic to speak of. Others have rid themselves of it completely. Jareth chose to do neither and pays the price of trying to reconcile our two halves. In our pride, we believe we can master both, keeping both our magic and our humanity. The other Fae believe this to be impossible and say so, which just makes us more stubborn than we already are. And then, Jareth is already leery of me; I was a young man when I made the journey to this place and the memories of the atrocities that humans committed is still with us. We are cruel but Jareth believes that humans are even more so with their emotions and determination. It makes it difficult for us to admit that we, too, carry the blood of Adam within us and--" The spirit's voice trailed off.

"And what?" Sarah urged in a quiet voice.

His ungloved hand reached out, hovering over Sarah's cheek. He slowly caressed it, leaving a feeling not of warm flesh but of penetrating comfort and protection. Her eyes closed as she leaned into it, letting the feeling wash through her. She could only vaguely compare it to the feeling she had had when she fell asleep in her mother's lap when she was little. "It is easier for me," he whispered roughly. "I remember how it felt to love and to be loved. The Goblin King knows nothing of feeling, of emotion, and it frightens him." Sarah started, her eyes staring wide at the phantom figure, her mouth open in surprise. "_You_ frighten him, Sarah, for you embody the traits he thought he despised. Determination. Strong and volatile emotions. You have an innocence in you that he envies. And a surprising intellect to govern it all. You are powerful, Sarah, and you are dangerous. We know this."

"But then, why am I here?" Sarah asked him. "You could have left me alone before, or destroyed me when I was solving the Labyrinth. You didn't have to let me live if I am so dangerous. You didn't have to make me that offer. I didn't have to win."

"The Goblin King made the offer so that you would become his slave. 'Fear me,' he told you. 'Love me, do as I say.' Accepting that would have let him study you and yours without risk. You would have been able to do nothing if you had accepted that offer; you would have been bound to him for the rest of your life. Self-confidence has never been lacking in us," he smiled ruefully. "He believes he can solve the mystery of love without giving himself up to it."

"What do you want of me?" Sarah whispered, sounding like a frightened little girl.

"I, I would ask your love, Sarah, and only that. I am proud, but we are more alike than I would care to admit. My ego took a bruising when you defeated us, but we belong with you. If you can find it in you, I ask that you love us."

"And if I can't?" she asked quietly.

"Then I must accept that, as Philip accepted that we could not love him. But I would ask that you accomplish the task that only you can."

"What is that?"

"The Goblin King does not know this, but I have divined that you are the only one who can reconcile Fae magic and human power. You have done so already, though you need to learn to control your earth magic as well as the Fae. But you do not suffer the same as we. Help us. Please."

"But I don't know how!" Sarah cried gently. It was impossible not to feel sympathy for the spirit, but she didn't know how she did whatever it was that she did, much less tell someone else how.

"I know you don't, not now," the spirit answered. "But please, try. Return to Earth; I think the answers are there. If you don't, we will destroy ourselves."

Sarah started back from the hand that was by now resting comfortably on her shoulder. "That--that's not very fair," she said shakily. "I can barely manage my own life; I can't take responsibility for yours."

"It's not an option, Sarah," he told her sternly, in a tone that reminded her of the waking Jareth. "It's a fact, and facts are never fair. We have barely managed to coexist these past millenia and at a price. _You_ have thrown everything out of balance. We are in turmoil and will only manage to destroy ourselves in the end."

"I didn't ask for this!"

"You think I did? By God, Sarah, if I could have avoided this, I would have. But here we are. Live with it. I do every bloody day." With that, the spirit vanished, leaving Sarah feeling horribly alone and scared.

It was a matter of seconds before Sarah heard Jareth's voice again, angry and harsh. "Sarah, what are you doing here?" Sarah's head flew up to see the Fae sitting up in his bed, hair and clothes rumpled. Like a startled doe, she ran. Jareth was left looking blankly at the open door.

"Damn," he said.

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"I swear, Cousin Jareth has the subtlety and sensitivity of a brick wall."

"Can't argue with that one."

"But he almost had it there."

"Almost, but his human side's as stubborn and arrogant as his Fae side. Or almost, anyway. Bloody idiot."

"My dears, he can't help it. And Sarah wouldn't love him half as much if he was any other way."

"Yes, Mother, but will either of them be able to admit it since they're both so stubborn?"

"Eventually, my sons. Eventually. But--" The pleasant, round face creased in worry. "I hope it will be soon enough that their future will not become flawed."

"That's the worst thing about being prophets. Everything looks all rosy and then _they_ do something that screws it up. Then they blame _us_ for their mistake."

With that, the Reshephim and their adoptive mother turned back to the lives unfolding below them.

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_You should ask yourself. . . why you did._

The Reshephim's words played through Jareth's head both before and after he awoke. They were still there when he saw Sarah gazing thoughtfully at him. That jolted them temporarily out of his mind. This was _his_ sanctuary, dammit. She had no business being here. When he asked her what she was doing in his room, she fled as if demons were after her. The moment she was gone, the words returned. With an irritated mutter, he dismissed them. Even if he could figure out why he had answered Sarah's call for the goblins to take her little brother, it didn't matter anyway. But he'd better go after her before she gathered her wits and decided to blast him.

Feeling definitely the worse for wear, Jareth took the time to toss a crystal into the air and change his outfit. In a wheat coloured shirt (unbuttoned midway) and black breeches that would have to be peeled rather than pulled off, he stalked down the hallway in search of the wayward girl.

He found her sitting in the courtyard attached to her room. On the ground with her knees in front of her and the wall at her back, Sarah's eyes stared blankly into space, her hands mechanically petting the vines that twined around her.

"Sarah?" he questioned.

She rose swiftly, with a grace he hadn't imagined she possessed. Turning to him, her expression icy, she said flatly, "We're returning to Earth. Now."

And the Goblin Lord shivered at the proud, passionless words.


	26. The Road Home

To the Victor Go the Spoils

Hola! I've finally crunched out the next piece. Funny how the more time I have, the less I write. A big hug & thanks to all my readers, especially you folks who have taken the time to review. Anyway, there isn't really a theme for this one, so just sit back & enjoy! Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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Part 26 ~ The Road Home

It was the matter of a blink of an eye before Jareth found himself once more in front of the Williams' home. With obvious impatience, Sarah stalked through the front door and to the stairs, followed by an oddly silent Goblin Lord.

"Sarah!" The girl turned to face the blond woman who now confronted her.

"What," she snapped.

"Where have you been, young lady? Your father has been absolutely frantic. He even called your mother to see if you were with her," Karen glared at the bane of her existance.

"I don't know why," Sarah said quietly. "My mother would be the last person on earth to care where I was. And why does it matter, anyway? I've been at school."

"For _two days_, Sarah?" The woman's voice dripped with sarcasm. "The last anyone saw of you was when you left the gym with Jareth." She didn't seem to notice the now much older man standing behind her step-daughter.

"Whoops," the girl replied. "I guess I forgot about the time. I didn't have a watch on me."

"Now listen here, young lady--" Karen grabbed Sarah's arm. "I've had just about enough of your smart mouth and scatterbrained habits. Frankly, I don't give a damn where you've been or why, but I will be damned before I let a little good-for-nothing like you ruin my marriage and my life."

Sarah glared at her. "Let go of my arm," she said, in the same voice that had shaken the Goblin Lord.

Still the woman hung on, giving the dark-haired girl a shake. "You better shape up, little girl," she hissed, "or I'll have you shipped off faster than you can blink."

"Why don't I take care of that for you, then?" Sarah asked quietly. "Jareth," she tossed him the name casually, like a bone for a dog, "I know where we're going. Ready?" With no time to hear his answer, she whisked out another crystal and Karen found herself clutching empty air.

Sarah slumped against a nearby building with a sigh. She was tired, so tired. But it wouldn't do to show it in front of Jareth. She heaved herself upright once again. If she had felt the magic correctly, they should be within a block of two of her grandmother. "Come on," she ordered Jareth, the icy calm once more settling over her. "We're going this way. And for pity's sake, put some decent clothes on."

With a flick of the wrist, Jareth once more clothed himself in t-shirt and jeans and appeared a teenager to the world. He followed the girl in silence, frowning.

The pair picked their way down the sidewalk with care, avoiding the various bits of trash and other objects that littered the ground. A small, dark woman energetically swept the steps of a three-story apartment building, berating the men sitting there with equal vigour. They swatted at her lazily, grinning. When they noticed Sarah, they turned up the charm.

"Hey, muchacha," one called in Spanish. "Want to have some fun?" His companions chuckled.

"You'd have better luck asking your sister, pendejo," she called back in the same language, not even slowing her walk. The man was immediately set on by his teasing friends.

"Come on," he persisted. "I'd be much better for you than that little puppy dog you got following you. He's so young he probably don't know which end is up."

Jareth, who couldn't understand a word that was being spoken, raised an eyebrow at the man's tone. Sarah stopped dead, aghast at the implication. In spite of Jareth's breeches, she'd never really thought of him--of _them_--like that. Not seriously, anyway. Her face flamed. She loosed a flood of Spanish at the man, speaking so rapidly it was almost incomprehensible. When she was finished, the young man looked appropriately chagrined and his friends looked admiringly at the girl, who continued down the street at a fast pace.

Jareth, surprised, jogged after her. "What did you say to that man?" he asked her.

She stopped dead in her tracks. "I honestly have no idea," she told him, bewildered.

"Then what did he say to you?" This was certainly interesting. But at least it had brought Sarah out of her automaton state.

Her cheeks flushed once again. "I am _not_ going to answer that," she informed him primly, and once more continued walking.

"Interesting," the Goblin King murmured, following after.

There were two more blocks of run down apartments before they came to a amazingly large, level space occupied by a number of brightly painted and unusually trimmed trailers. Covered in wood paneling and painted in solid blocks of primary and secondary colors, they resembled the classic gypsy wagons, though they obviously were not meant to be hitched to horses.

Sarah stopped and whirled to face Jareth, who nearly ran into her. "Now listen," she hissed. "While we are here, you _will_ behave yourself. No tricks. And if you do _anything_, and I mean anything, to my grandmother, I will _personally_ hang you by your toes and use you as a target for knife-throwing. Got that?" Before a highly astonished Jareth could reply, they were interrupted.

"Quienes son ustedes?" A voice challenged them, followed immediately by a belligerent-looking boy of about thirteen. "Que quieren?"

"Francisco!" A woman emerged from behind the nearest trailer. She bustled up behind the boy, grabbing his ear. "How many times do I have to tell you? We need the business. Be polite to the tourists. Ay, why was I cursed with such a son? Dios mio! Now, andele! Go help your grandfather." She shoved him in the direction she had some from, giving him a swat from behind to encourage him.

A grudging "Si, mama," was heard coming from the would-be sentry.

The woman turned to the pair and smiled. "Welcome, travelers," she said in faltering English. "Would you like your fortune told today? Or a charm?"

Sarah studied the woman closely. She was no older than mid-thirties, with large dark eyes outlined in black and a mane of thick, curly black hair that tumbled around her shoulders. "Dona Maria?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes, I'm Maria," the woman answered, "but who. . .?" She peered closely at the girl. "Madre dos Santos! It's Sarah! Libertad's granddaughter, Sarah! Welcome, nina, como estas?" Sarah found herself literally enveloped by the larger woman and hugged her back just as fiercely.

"It's good," Sarah said hoarsely. "It's so good to be home." 

The crystal tears slipping down her cheeks did not go unnoticed by the Goblin Lord.


	27. Warm Welcomes

To the Victor Go the Spoils

Once again, I take pen in hand--er, keyboard under fingers--to present you with yet another bit of story. Warnings: my Spanish is rusty and from the spoken word. I apologize for misspellings & bad grammar. My knowledge of Mexican gypsies is from novelas (Mexican soap operas) that I watched a few years ago. So don't quote me as a reliable resource. The theme is, I think, _Girando en el Tiempo_ by Iran Castillo. Finally, I'd like to mention that I've named Sarah's grandmother in honor of a remarkable Mexican actress, Libertad Lamarque, who died last year. She began acting in the old black & whites and was still going strong when she died. _Vaya con Dios, senora_.

Ladymage ;)

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Part 27 ~ Warm Welcomes

Jareth, with unusual tact, remained silent. Indeed, it would have been difficult for him to sneak in a word in the midst of the flood now coming from Dona Maria, even if he had understood what she was talking about. All he could perceive was a unending string of syllables, which, while pleasant to hear, were totally incomprehensible. And now this formidable woman was beginning to herd them further into the circle of trailers.

He looked about with interest as he followed Maria and Sarah. The Underground had no similar people within it; Fae tended to be territorial, which discouraged their subjects from trespassing in other kingdoms. Within the protective circle--which, he discovered, was a true magic circle--men, women, and children were to be found at a number of tasks. A group of older men sat in the shade and laughed as their knives flashed, freeing shapes from the wood piled near them. A few of the children watched them and played with the bits that fell from the swift blades. Older children tended the animals. Though horses had become antiquated, there was still quite a bit of livestock--goats, chickens, dogs. Even a few cats prowled the grounds. Jareth sneered. He wasn't a cat person.

There was barely time before Jareth found himself being guided firmly into one of the trailers, a small but lavishly decorated affair. One, two, three steps and he and Sarah were inside, alone.

No, not alone. Almost immediately, a small, wiry figure floated to Sarah and enfolded her in its arms. "Sarah, mi nina, que haces aqui? Vente, vente. Come, sit down."

Libertad Campbell was just as magnetic as she had appeared over twenty years ago, though her strong facial features were now even more prominent, and could never be accounted as beauty. What drew the eye were those same attributes he had noted in the photograph, the strength and determination--the will that expressed itself through those nearly coal black eyes.

His intense study did not go unnoticed by the sharp-eyed woman. "Quien es ese?" she asked, releasing Sarah to stare back at him just as thoroughly. "Tu novio, ninita?" She circled him like a prowling cat. He followed her with his eyes, missing Sarah's outraged expression.

"Abuela!" she said, horrified, and continued in Spanish. "He is _not_ my fiance. And, no, he's not my boyfriend. He's not even a friend!"

"Too bad," Libertad commented. "He's young and good-looking. He also looks as stubborn as you. He'd be good for you."

Sarah threw herself into a nearby chair, exasperated. "He's not that young," she muttered darkly.

"Si?" Libertad turned to look at her for a moment, then turned to look steadily into the Goblin Lord's eyes. "Ah, si, no es joven. Welcome, my lord," she continued in clear, unaccented English. "Come, sit down. And feel free to take off your mask."

When a slight look of surprise crossed his face, the woman smiled. "Never try to trick an old trickster," she advised cheekily, tapping his nose with her finger, "even if you are older. It never works."

"I shall endeavor to follow your advice, lady." Jareth recovered smoothly, his teenage facade shifting to his ordinary epicene features, his clothes becoming more elaborate. He bowed. "I am deeply honored to make your acquaintance."

"Thank you, my lord," she replied, curtseying in turn. "I think I'll wait and see before I return the compliment, though."

To Sarah's surprise, Jareth's laughter filled the small room. "Well met, madam," he smiled.

"So," Libertad returned her attention to her granddaughter, "si no es tu novio, ninita, quien es?"

Cheeks red, Sarah mumbled, "Abuela, this is Jareth, the, uh, ex-Goblin King. Jareth, this is my grandmother, Libertad Campbell."

"_Ex_-Goblin King?" The woman's eyes lifted in surprise. "I knew you were Fae, but not of such high rank. What _have_ you been up to, Sarah?"

"Abuela," Sarah said abruptly, the eyes she lifted to her grandmother glimmering with unshed tears, "why did you never tell me?"

"Ay, ninita. . ." Libertad began, then stopped, turning to the Goblin Lord. Advancing toward him, she pushed him firmly towards the door. "Out," she ordered. "And no eavesdropping until you're invited back." Before Jareth could react, he found himself standing on the steps on the wrong side of the closed--and, he quickly discovered, locked--door.


	28. Getting to Know You

Greetings all. First off, thank you thank you to all my devoted reviewers! At last count, _To the Victor_ had received 283 reviews from 137 different readers. You have no idea how many times I re-read them. They make me so happy! Angelhereal, Happy Birthday! I've read your story; I'm just procrastinating on the review. ^_^; Unicorn Lady, thanks for the offer of help. I'm hoping I can muddle through, but don't hesitate to point out mistakes! I'd mention you all by name, but since that would take a really long time (and you want the story, not the ANs), I'll just mention a few: Thanks to elona, my 1st reviewer, and to Archaic Tears and Serina Fannel for being the most frequent reviewers with 20 and 15 respectively. (Yes, I keep track; I have no life.)

I'll tell you now that _I am no longer responsible for any action on the part of the Reshephim_. They insist on having their say and I can't seem to get rid of them. Oh, well. Recommended listening today: _Gotita de Amor_ by Tatiana. Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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Part 28 ~ Getting to Know You

Jareth sighed irritably and sat down on the step. That insolent wench! He had admired her forthrightness, but this was beyond the pale. How dare she throw him out!

The Fae was busy contemplating the various unpleasant things he could do to that upstart mortal when he felt a small tug on his sleeve. Startled, he looked up, then down. Then further down.

A round little girl, no more then seven years old stood next to him, looking up at him with large, dark eyes. "Juega conmigo," she demanded.

"I beg your pardon?" Jareth couldn't understand what she was asking, but was suitably offended by her commanding tone. He was further astonished at her temerity when she tugged on his sleeve again and repeated the same words.

"She wants you to play with her," commented a voice in only slightly accented English. A boy of maybe twelve knelt next to the girl, speaking to her softly. He grinned up at the blond stranger. "She says she doesn't care if you can't understand her."

"Well, you may tell her that I do mind and furthermore, I have no intention of playing with anyone," Jareth replied haughtily. The boy glanced at him before rapidly translating.

The little girl's face became stubborn. She grabbed the Fae's hand and pulled. Hard. "Juega conmigo!" she repeated. "Ahora!" The last word increased in volume as she continued repeating it. "Now! Now!! NOW!!"

How was he supposed to deal with this? One could not apply the same rules to unruly children as one could to unruly goblins. At least, not after Sarah had threatened him. He rather imagined that if he did anything to the child he would find himself disembowelled as well as punctured. To an immortal, the thought is extremely unpleasant. Jareth looked to the boy for a cue. He shrugged helplessly, twitching the end of his ponytail back over his shoulder.

"What can you do?" he said. "She's my cousin, Teresa. My aunt spoils her."

Trying to ignore the girl now trying to yank his arm out of its socket, he asked curiously, "But wouldn't her mother keep her away from strangers?"

The boy looked surprised. "Strangers? Sir, you're sitting on the _madrina's_ doorstep. Whatever you are, you aren't a stranger." At Jareth's blank look, he added, "Anyone can explain it to you. But go play with her now. Five minutes." With that, the boy vanished and Jareth was left to deal with little Teresa, who was continuing to demonstrate her remarkable vocal capacity. Sighing, he let the tiny girl pull him to his feet.

"All right, all right," he glared at her. "What do you want?" she giggled and pulled him to a wagon a few feet away.

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"And so I brought us here." Sarah had just finished telling her grandmother everything that had happened over the past week. Sprawled across her grandmother's lap, she had poured out everything, crying, laughing, becoming nearly hysterical at some points. Now she felt drained, all her energy and emotion had flowed out of her.

"Ay, mijita," Libertad spoke softly, her arms holding her grandchild close, "I am so sorry I did not tell you."

"Why didn't you?" Sarah pulled slightly back to look her grandmother in the face. "Abuela, why didn't you tell me that I could do this?"

"Because, mi nina, I could not stay and you could not come with me. You were just a little girl, too young to handle such power on your own. And your mother had left and Karen was beginning to take her place in your father's heart. It would have been too easy for you to slip beyond what is good into the evil side of magic. Perhaps I should have left the caravan. . ."

"No," Sarah told her fiercely. "Even then, I knew you had to leave. Both of us would have been miserable if you stayed. At least you had a good reason for what you did. I had no excuse for what happened beyond losing my temper and reacting like a spoiled child."

"But I do not think you are a child any longer, mija," Libertad looked deeply into her eyes. "You have grown up, I think."

"I don't think so. I still feel like a child, lost and scared and ignorant."

"But once you realized there was no other way, you faced up to the consequences of your actions and did everything you could to make things right. That is what growing up means, my dear. Not that you know everything, but that you know what is right, and do that in spite of everything."

"But I _don't_ know what's right, Abuela!" Sarah wailed. "I _don't _know what's going on and I _don't _know what to do about it."

"That's why you're asking your older and wiser grandmother, dear," Libertad replied, smiling. Sarah gave a small chuckle in spite of herself.

"So what should I do, abuela?" she asked in a child's voice.

"Well, I think tonight both of you need to eat and rest. Tomorrow, we'll figure out what both you and Jareth are capable of magically. That I think I and the caravan can help you with. As for you and Jareth, hija, the two of you must work it out on your own.

"Now come; let's go outside and see what can be made of this Goblin King of yours."

The pair went to the door and opened it. They were surprised to find it damp, with a few hailstones scattered over it. What they did not find was the blond Fae they had expected.

"Drat it!" Sarah muttered. "I guess I lost control again. Sorry, Abuela."

"Not a problem, love," her grandmother assured her. "The rain will be good for us. The question is, where has your old Fae gone to?"

"I have no idea, but he better remember what I told him," the girl growled.

Libertad looked at her, surprised and amused. "My dear, what _did_ you tell him?"

Sarah blushed. "I told him that if he got out of line, I'd hang him by his toes and use him for target practice," she admitted.

"Come, then," her grandmother chuckled. "Let's see if we'll have a new dartboard."

"Madrina?" The same boy who had talked to Jareth reappeared.

"Si, Carlito?" Sarah noticed the boy's round face and long hair, his bright blue shirt and black pants.

"Madrina, the man who was here went to play with Teresa. They are near my aunt's wagon."

Sarah choked.

"Gracias, Carlito," Libertad answered carefully. "We'll go get him." The boy grinned and ran off.

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"Did you tell them?" A second boy, identical to the first save for that he wore a red shirt hissed.

"Yes, of course I did, _Adrien_," Carlito answered quietly. Both gave wide grins.

"I can't wait," Adrien commented.

"Well, come on then," Carlito urged. "Mother's already been laughing for the past twenty minutes."

The two sprinted in the direction of the wagon, so intent on their destination that they forgot what they were doing and began, just a little, to glow.

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Laughter floated through the air, growing louder as the two women approached the wagon. Sarah glanced sideways at her grandmother. Together, they walked silently toward the far side.

"Tag, you're it!" A bright giggle escaped as the little girl darted away from the Goblin Lord, who appeared as immaculately attired as usual. Except for a smudge on his nose, which he didn't seem to have noticed. 

"I'll get you for that one," he threatened as she ran from him laughing. Sarah started forward, to be stopped by her grandmother's arm. Startled, she looked at the older woman, to see her motion for Sarah to keep still.

Jareth began to run towards the girl, who glanced back to see where he was. What she did not see was a little hump of grass in front of her feet. Teresa tripped and began falling heavily. Quicker than thought, Jareth made a motion with his hand, magically catching the girl and setting her back on her feet. She blinked for a few moments, then ran back to the tall Fae.

"Gracias, Senor Jareth!" she shouted, attaching herself to his leg.

Sarah watched in astonishment as some expression passed rapidly over his face, leaving behind one of his sardonic grins. Gently, he touched the girl on her shoulder.

"Tag. You're it."


	29. I Challenge You -- to a Duel

To the Victor Go the Spoils

Well, I meant to have this out last week. But with one thing and another, I've kept putting it off. Let's see. . . A big gracias to Unicorn Lady for correcting my Spanish so far. I needed that. Just a note: To the Victor is on my webpage (www.geocities.com/ladymage_s) and will always be current with what's on ff.net. Sometimes, it may even be ahead! :p So, no theme today, just round up the disclaimers & brand 'em. Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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Part 29 ~ I Challenge You -- to a Duel

"No es justo!" Teresa complained, releasing the Fae and stamping her foot on the ground.

Jareth simply looked at her, amused. Then he heard a voice behind him. "I wonder what her basis for comparison is." He whirled to find Sarah and Libertad grinning at him. He pulled himself up and once again his face schooled itself closed. It was almost perfect save for the slight flush on his cheeks.

"Did she say what I think she said?" he asked.

Sarah nodded. "I translate: 'That's not fair!'"

"All is fair in love and war," he returned.

"So which one is this?" she asked.

Jareth walked slowly up to her, noticing how tense she became as he stood inches away. A gloved hand reached out. He tapped her shoulder. "Tag. You're it."

"Jareth!" she screamed at him as he darted away. "I'll get you for that!" She ran after him.

Libertad joined the group of women preparing supper and watched with them as Sarah and Jareth ran back and forth across the clearing, Sarah swearing as she doggedly pursued a taunting Jareth.

"Those two will make a match of it," Maria commented.

"Probably," Libertad replied, unruffled. "We just need to speed things up a bit."

Francisca, a tall, thin woman, added, "We've never had a problem before." Laughter accompanied the ongoing work of hands and feet and curious eyes.

On the far side of the field, Sarah was getting thoroughly fed up with the infuriating Fae. Whose bright idea was it to make men taller with longer legs? Finally, with a last burst of strength, she tackled him, taking a highly surprised Jareth to the ground with her.

He looked at his now torn and grass-stained shirt. "Wench! This was my favorite shirt!"

"You asked for it!" Sarah retorted. "And who are you calling a wench? Take that back!"

"Never!" cried Jareth as the two began to wrestle, rolling across the grass.

"You're holding back," Sarah accused him as they fought.

He grinned. "How do you know?"

"I. . .can tell," she gasped. "Now. . . Stop. . . patronizing . . .me. . .and. . .fight like a man!" Jareth simply grinned wider in response, though moments later, Sarah found the fight more difficult.

They were soon surrounded by a ring of young children and teenagers, their brightly coloured shirts and blouses glowing in the twilight. Many of the older children remembered Sarah from her earlier stay and cheered for her, chanting her name. The younger ones, led by Teresa, were undeniably on Jareth's side. Back and forth the pair went, shouting challenges at each other, landing what blows they could.

It wasn't long before Jareth was able to duck a wild blow and sweep Sarah's legs from under her. She landed heavily on her back with Jareth over her.

"Do you yield?" he asked, winded.

Exhausted, she said, "Yes."

"Good," he replied, before sinking down to lay beside her. Both were in pretty sorry shape, their clothes torn and grass stained, bruises beginning to appear in between the dirt smudges on their cheeks. Jareth's condition was not improved by the small, heavy object that hurtled through the crowd and landed on his stomach.

"Felicidades, Jareth!" Teresa yelled in his ear.

"Oof," Jareth replied.

Sarah turned her head to look at the man next to her. As she took in the stains and bruises, the grassy tangle of his hair, and the slightly pained expression as Teresa continued to perch on top of him, she began to giggle.

"What," Jareth asked in a highly dignified tone, "are you laughing at?"

Sarah only laughed harder.

Conjuring a crystal mirror, Jareth took a good look. In spite of himself, he, too, began to chuckle. It was much easier once the weight on his stomach was lifted off and his laughter rang out over the caravan.

"All right, you two miscreants." The pair were rapped on the chest with a wooden spoon. "It's time for dinner. Go wash." Dona Maria smiled at them, then retreated.

Jareth gave Sarah a questioning look. She choked out, "It's time for dinner. We've been ordered to wash up."

"Ah, I see," Jareth replied, standing. He sobered somewhat, but there was still a generous smile on his face. Sarah grinned back at him.

"You should see yourself trying to look dignified," she told him. "You _almost_ pull it off."

"Almost?" He lifted a questioning eyebrow.

"You've got tears in your breeches, grass stains on your shirt, and leaves in your hair. You're a mess. No one else could even _try_ to pull it off."

"Your honesty is appreciated, my lady," he said. "Shall we clean up?"

"Sure." Sarah began to walk towards her grandmother's trailer. Jareth stopped her.

"There is," he grinned, "a much easier method." With a flick of his wrist, he produced a crystal, which exploded in a cloud of diamond glitter. When it had settled, Sarah and Jareth were immaculate, Sarah in a topaz silk ballgown, Jareth resplendent in wine-red velvet and cream satin.

"I think you overdid it," Sarah murmured.

Jareth looked at himself blankly. "Yes, I suppose I did." While they both looked elegant and suited his sense of style, he had not intended to create anything this elaborate. Though he had to admit, that off-the-shoulder (and nearly off-the-bosom) look was absolutely breathtaking on the girl. With a regretful last glance (after all, what were his chances of getting her to wear that thing _voluntarily_?) he conjured another crystal to clothe them in something less ostentatious.

A Goblin Lord in black linen offered a Goblin Queen in blue denim his arm and the two made their way to dinner.


	30. Amethyst Remembrance

To the Victor Go the Spoils

Well, it seems that the last part was well received, if the reviews are any indication. Thank you. And yes, I, too, would have expected something to happen between those two with a wrestling match going on. I'd expect it from nearly all the fanfics I read. Which is partly why nothing happened. Anyway, I finished this as soon as I could. With all that's been going on both here and in my real life (Yes, there's one lurking around here somewhere. . .) I feel worn out and emotionally drained. So try not to feel to neglected if I don't post for the next few days. I may or may not need to recuperate. (And deal with real life.) In any case, the theme is Amethyst Remembrance from Yami no Matsuei. The lyrics are in part a poem by Emily Dickinson called "I Held a Jewel In My Fingers."

Ladymage Samiko ;)

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Part 30 ~ Amethyst Remembrance

Jareth was silent for much of the meal. Sarah translated what she could for him, but she was involved in the conversation and couldn't always take the time. It amazed him at how she had changed in coming here. It was as though something had allowed the mask that separated Sarah from the world to fall, leaving bare the shining angel within. The Labyrinth had matured her from girl to woman, but it was only now that she was truly alive.

She turned to him, still smiling from a recent joke. "Are you doing okay?" she asked. "How's the food?"

"Wonderful," he assured her. "What is this?" He gestured toward the bowl in his hand.

"Uh," she said looking at it, "you probably don't want to know."

"I'm a big boy, Sarah," he smiled wryly. "I think both I and my stomach can handle it."

"Okay. It's called menudo. It's made from tripe." She watched to see his reaction.

"Really?" He sounded surprised. "It's a much different flavor from what I am used to."

Now it was Sarah's turn to be surprised. "You eat tripe _normally_?"

"I used to," he answered shortly, effectively ending the conversation. Somewhat disappointed, Sarah returned her attention to the rest of the group.

It was a quiet evening in the gypsy camp; most retired directly after dinner. The leader and his council went to Libertad's wagon to confer with her about the problems Sarah had presented them with. Strangely, Sarah found both herself and Jareth barred from the deliberations. The two were left alone in the clearing.

"Well," Sarah said nervously.

"Well." Jareth's voice was neutral.

"Nice night, isn't it?"

"Rather difficult to tell with all the air pollution, wouldn't you say?" Jareth asked, sardonic.

"Yeah, I guess so." She shifted her weight from foot to foot, trying not to chew her fingernails, a nervous habit she had only shed a year ago.

Finally, she gathered up all her courage and blurted out, "Jareth, what did you mean when you said you used to eat tripe?"

"I believe the statement was crystal clear," he answered coolly.

"You know what I mean, Jareth."

"I do," he replied tonelessly.

"I could order you to tell me," she threatened.

"You could. Why don't you?"

She sighed angrily and threw herself down onto the grass. "Because I couldn't do that to you, Jareth."

"Do what to me?" Sarah thought she heard genuine curiosity. She looked up at him.

"I couldn't hurt you like that. Whatever you're hiding is--obviously very personal to you. It isn't right for me to force you to tell me something that is so important to you if you don't feel you can trust me with it." Sarah spoke haltingly as she tried to organize her thoughts. "I--I guess I want you to be able to trust me. And I can't force you to do that. Especially if I root into your past without so much as a by-your-leave."

"Why would you want to bother with my past, anyway?" he asked, looking down at her. "It has nothing to do with you. We're here to solve your problem, remember?"

"And you're part of it," she joked half-heartedly. When he didn't respond, she continued seriously, "I want-- I guess I want to be able to trust you, too. And part of that, I think, is trying to understand you." She smiled wryly. "You're as twisty as the Labyrinth, Jareth. I'll probably spend the next forty years trying to figure you out."

"I could spend the next hundred trying to understand you," he replied.

"Me?" Sarah was genuinely surprised. "What's so difficult about me? There's nothing particularly complex about me. I'm just Sarah."

He sat delicately facing her. "And I could tell you I'm just Jareth. Somehow, I don't think either of us would be satisfied with the answer."

"How about this, then. You ask me one question, whatever you want, and I'll ask you one question. And we _both_ have to answer completely. Agreed?"

For a long moment, there was silence. Jareth's face was unreadable in the firelight. "Very well," he finally said. "One question. Why do you idolize your mother?"

Sarah was taken aback at this unexpected angle. "My mother? Well, I--" She fell silent before the Goblin Lord's mocking gaze, finally laying back on the grass to stare at the sky. Long moments passed while Jareth gazed steadily at her moon-shadowed face.

"I suppose," she began slowly, "it's because she was so glamorous, you know? She'd come into the room and the whole place would come alive just 'cause she was there. I'd see her and my father together and they'd be like-- like Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart. Perfect. She made so many people happy just to see her. She was beautiful and kind and could make you feel like you were the most important, most special person in the world.

"I want to be able to do that. I want to be able to make people laugh and cry and sing. I want to feel special. I want to make other people feel special."

"Why?" he asked her. "Why bother with how other people feel? What does it matter?"

She raised herself up on her elbows to look at him. "I can't answer that, Jareth. I care about the people around me. That's why. If you don't understand that, I can't explain it to you."

He looked at her steadily for a long moment. "I believe you had a question for me," he reminded her quietly.

"Mmm," Sarah agreed, thinking quickly. She knew she had to phrase her question carefully; Jareth would try to answer as little as possible, but she didn't want to push him, either. She sighed. It always felt like she was walking a tightrope when it came to Jareth.

"Jareth," she began slowly. "Why don't you eat tripe anymore?" She would leave to him to decide how much he would tell her.

"There is no one to make it," he answered in clipped tones. A long silence fell between them, filled only by the crackling of the fire nearby. Sarah sat and watched him.

"My," he paused. "My mother used to make it for me. Every year, on my birthday, she would make my favorite foods." He stopped, staring blankly at the moon. "She said it was my day, so the world should bow to my wishes." He gave a small smile. "Even my brothers."

"Jareth. . ." Sarah breathed, trying not to break his reverie.

"I can see her now, on that one birthday so many centuries ago. My father called her the Goddess of the Kitchen. He was right. We were moving, like the rest of our kind, to the Underground and she still insisted on cooking for me. It was a mistake we never should have let her make.

Humans had followed us into the forest, intent on killing. The other families had gone ahead. We began to make a run for it, but when it was clear that we couldn't make it, we told my mother to take the baby and go. My father, my brothers, and I made our stand.

They fought, they died. Because they tried to protect me, I was the last. I ran my father's killer through with my sword and ran to reach my mother and brother." Though his eyes were bright, no tears fell as Jareth gazed blindly at the moon. His hand clutched the pendant he wore, the points digging into his palm. "They were dead. Both dead. My mother raped before they ran her through the heart and cut off her head. Liam. . ." At last he turned to Sarah, his eyes full of rage and grief. "He was only five months old, Sarah," he said fiercely. "Five months! An innocent babe as sweet and happy as a child can be. And for that they carved a rune in his chest and crushed his skull. But that was no more than he deserved," he mimicked bitterly, "for being born to the wrong parents."

Sarah's tears flowed freely, her eyes wide in horror. "Jareth. . .I--"

"I lived because they didn't expect me," he continued, paying her no heed. "They didn't expect one half-grown boy to come upon them as they laughed and congratulated each other on a successful hunt. They debated what they should take from the bodies as trophies, to hang in their huts and boast of winter nights. One man tore my mother's brooch from her dress, laughing. My father had crafted it for her from pure silver and gave it to her on their wedding night. A circle for eternity, the symbol for infinity. The symbol for their love, he told her. She wore it every day."

His voice continued, cool and distant, though his fingers moved, tracing the design of the pendant. "One of their swords was on the ground. I grabbed it, shrieking as the iron seared my hands, and ran at the man who held my mother's brooch. It fell from his hand as he clutched at his own sword that went through his stomach and out his back. The other man was in shock, which gave me time to pull the sword from the body and swing it wildly. It cut across his waist. He fell to the ground, clutching his entrails.

"I believe it was some time before he died.

"My hands were a mess and the rest of me in little better shape. But I managed to use the miniscule magic I had then to bury my family. My father lays at my mother's right hand, Liam on her left. My brothers surround and guard them. I would have stayed as well, but the other Fae found me and dragged me, screaming, to the Underground. Since they would not let me die, I determined that, though I despised it, I would never let that last bit of humanity die. I would not forget my family. I would remember them, remember the pain, and be proud that if I could not die with them, I was at least able to avenge them."

Sarah leaned toward him. "I'm _glad_," she said fiercely. Jareth blinked and finally saw Sarah once more. He saw the tears in her eyes and savage expression on her face. "I'm glad you killed them. How can people be such monsters?"

"Humans _are_ monsters," Jareth answered tightly.

"No," Sarah shook her head, her hair flying. "_No._ Humans are not monsters. How can you say that?"

"I have lived in a world of them. I have watched them for thousands of years," he answered, his voice hard. "You know your history as well as I do."

"But I also know _people_, Jareth. I know my friends; I know my family. Do you think that they are monsters?" She looked into his eyes and he saw the pain in her own. "Do you think that _I'm_ a monster?" she asked quietly.

"You can be so cruel," he whispered hoarsely.

"I don't mean to be," she replied, her voice just as soft. She reached over and stilled the hand that continued to worry his pendant. Gently, she took it in her own, removing the thin glove that covered it.

Sarah had never truly seen his hands before. Though the skin felt normal, his palm and fingers were crossed with dark red stripes that felt warmer than the pale flesh. Burn scars. From the human sword, the iron sword, he had turned against his mother's killers. She heard Jareth hiss as she traced her fingers along a few of the marks. She looked up at him again, uncertain. He looked steadily back at her, his expression unreadable.

Sarah gripped his hand between her own, somehow hoping to communicate her feelings. She raised his hand to her lips and pressed them against his palm before laying her cheek there, keeping her eyes on his. "I don't mean to be." She was no longer certain whether she was asking or telling.

An eternity of moments passed for Sarah as the two remained unmoving in the firelight. Finally, the hand on her cheek moved, the fingers caressing as she leaned into it, his thumb erasing the tears that fell. In wonder, Sarah's own fingers traced the planes of his face, feeling the drops that, at last, fell freely from his eyes.

"I--I wish," Jareth faltered. Sarah encouraged him with her silence. "I wish my mother could have known you, Sarah." For the first time in his immortal existence, Jareth surrendered his iron self-control and Sarah held him tightly as he finally allowed himself to mourn what he had lost so long ago.


	31. Footprints

To the Victor Go the Spoils

Please read part 30 immediately before this. Theme: Suil a Ruin by Liza Kay. ANs at the end. L.S.

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 31 ~ Footprints

Time stopped for the two souls that huddled together next to a dying fire. Sarah could no longer say whether it had been a short or a long time before Jareth's sobs died down and he fell into an exhausted slumber. She could only feel a deep sorrow for the child Jareth had been and was not allowed to be, and a strong desire to protect what was left of the heart he had abandoned along with his childhood.

She held him close to her; she could not have been there for him then, but she could stay with him now. For as long as he wished, she would be there for him. _Well_, she thought with a tiny smile, _maybe longer than he wishes_. Who knew better than she how stubborn he could be? He would probably awake tomorrow morning with that same idiotic, stone-idol mask of his and return to his position as Goblin Lord-on-High. But Sarah knew better now; she knew there was a very human, very sensitive soul underneath and she wouldn't let go until she knew he had healed.

Hearing a soft rustle in the grass beside her, Sarah looked up to find her grandmother standing beside her. "Abuela?" she asked softly. "How can people be so cruel?"

With a small sigh, Libertad sat next to the girl. "It is our legacy, mi nina. Long ago, we were innocent, pure. But we chose knowledge and knowledge has both good and evil in it. And we have free will, so we can choose between them. For some, the call of evil is strong and they give in to it. We can only hope that someday, someday evil will lose its strength and good will triumph. Until then, we can only do so much to fight it, live with it, heal from it." She gave Sarah a small hug. "And from the look of things, I would say the two of you have taken a large step tonight in doing that."

"But he was just a child, Abuela! Why do things like that happen to children? How can God let them happen?"

Libertad took Sarah's face gently in her hands. "We cannot know what God has for us, mi nina. But as our Father, He gave us the freedom to choose our own lives. To interfere overmuch would take that gift away from us. The consequences are what we make them. What we do about the consequences is our decision. What happens now is your decision."

Suddenly, Sarah felt exhausted. "What should I do, Abuela?" she asked in a small voice.

"That is a question I cannot answer for you, mi nina. You must answer it." The woman stood. "Come. It's time and past for good souls to be in bed. Perhaps you will be granted an answer in your dreams."

"Si, Abuela." Sarah felt like a small child again, ready for someone to lead her by the hand and tell her everything she needed to know. From the shadows, a large man walked silently towards them. Sarah smiled at him as he lifted the fae from her lap as easily as he would lift a baby.

Jareth was laid on the spare bed in Libertad's room and, after some small argument, Sarah prepared herself to occupy her grandmother's bed. With a nervous glance over her shoulder, she changed into the nightgown her grandmother had given her and slid underneath the soft blankets.

She could not sleep. Her eyes continued to watch the man who lay only a few feet away from her, his hair bleached to a shimmering white by the bright moonlight, his face finally relaxed, at peace. It was a revelation to see how tightly he must control his features during his waking hours and the revelation saddened her. But there was also wonder in her contemplation, for though they say that everyone looks young when they sleep, Jareth did not. He looked ageless, unearthly, something both extraordinarily close and yet far beyond her reach.

He was beautiful.

Sarah padded quietly to his bedside and knelt there, watching the carved features, the slight movement as he breathed. Slowly, almost fearfully, her hand moved to his face, brushing the long locks from his eyes, caressing the lines of cheek and jaw.

Jareth leaned into the touch, sleeping still. "Màthair*," he murmured.

Sarah nearly cried.

His eyes fluttered open. "Sarah?" he questioned, his voice child-like with sleep. "Acc," he said, disappointment in his voice, "An aisling. Nammà an aisling*." And with a small, sad smile, his eyes closed once again.

"Jareth?" the girl questioned softly.

Now Jareth awoke fully. "Sarah?" he said again, a strange look in his eyes. "What--?"

"Shh," she whispered, placing a finger over his lips. "Sleep." He gazed at her in wonder before feeling a familiar twinge. Both he and Sarah convulsed as the Labyrinth was once again decimated by the release of the Fae magic Jareth had accumulated. Before he could recover, he was once more drowned in waves of agony.

Sarah had felt the perfect peace of the moment before feeling fire rush through her veins. Instinctively, she knew it was not her pain but the Labyrinth's and so the first thing she sought out when the pain released her was Jareth.

It was hauntingly familiar to see him drawn in upon himself, the blank look in his eyes. Once more, it was instinct that told her that her magic before had helped him heal only; it could not stop what he was experiencing.

"Jareth?" Her hands wandered over his face, his arms, his hands, feeling the tension in them, willing him to react to her touch. "Jareth, please!" She grasped his hand tightly, hoping somehow she could reach him. "Please be all right. Please." As the moments dragged on like hours, Sarah searched her mind for something, anything she could do. "Madre de Dios," she prayed, "ayuda-me por favor. Please. Help me."

A quiet voice chimed within the depths of her soul. "Trust in your strength, mi nina," it told her. "Trust in your strength."

Sarah reacted instantly, almost without conscious thought. Closing her eyes, her mind sought out the man before her. She saw every thread, every fibre of the pain that ran throughout him. And in one swift movement, she gathered all of them, drawing them out of his body.

And taking them into her own.

Jareth's return to consciousness was like that of a dreamer awakening from a nightmare. Every part of him was alert. And afraid. He shook his head, trying to clear the last of his confusion. After a moment, he was able to focus on what was in front of him.

"Sarah?" He looked at her more closely to see her eyes shut, her body tightly curled. Jareth finally felt the iron grip of her hands around his. "Sarah!"

It had been quite a long time since Jareth had felt fear, felt pure, unadulterated terror. He hated it. He hated not knowing what was happening. He hated not knowing what would happen. He hated how his world depended on one single being.

He hated feeling helpless.

"Dammit, Sarah," he muttered. "Sarah, can you hear me? Answer me!"

There was no response.

He swore. "Sarah, curse you, this is the price I must pay! Didn't you know the pain could kill you? Come on, Sarah, answer me. Say something, dammit! Tell me why! Why are you risking yourself like this? Why?"

_You should ask yourself . . . why you did._

I care about the people around me. That's why.

I love you, Jareth. You cannot love me in return, so I shall be content with shouldering a part of your burden.

With his free hand, Jareth sought out Philip's letter, which lay in a hidden pocket in his shirt. Until now, it had been an intellectual puzzle for him to try to comprehend. But in a moment of enlightenment, the meaning behind those last lines had become painfully clear.

The fae slipped from the bed to the floor, cradling the girl in his arms. "Please, Sarah," he whispered, "be well. Dear God, let her live. Just let her live. I--

"God help me, I love her with all my heart. Please don't take her from me now."

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*Old Irish/Gaelic terms:

Màthair: mother

Acc: no

An aisling: a dream

Nammà: only, just

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Well. I hope y'all enjoyed. Sorry to take so long, but this part just wouldn't come out right for some reason. Write and rewrite and rewrite again. What do you think of the final version? Anyway, the title "Footprints" is from a poem of the same name by Mary Stevenson. Today's theme can be found at mp3.com. And everyone knows the disclaimers at this point.

Ladymage Samiko ;)


	32. Suil A Ruin

To the Victor Go the Spoils

I imagined you'd all kill me if I just posted the last part, so here's the next one as well. Our theme is Suil a Ruin from Lord of the Dance. The verses here are a mix of both versions. Enjoy.

Ladymage Samiko ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 32 ~ Suil A Ruin

It was a long, lonely vigil for the Goblin King. He never took his eyes from the tiny figure in his arms, fearing that she would be gone in the instant he did. He never moved unless he thought it might make her more comfortable. The only sound that came from his lips was a song that echoed from his distant past, a song his mother had given him.

I wish I were on yonder hill 

'Tis there I'd sit and I'd cry my fill, 

And ev'ry tear would turn a mill, 

And a blessing walk with you, my love

Suil, suil, suil a ruin

Suil go suchair agus suil go cuin 

Suil go durrus agys eligh liom 

Is go te tu mo vourneen slan

I'll sell my rod, I'll sell my reel 

I'll sell my only spinning wheel 

To buy my love a sword of steel 

And a blessing walk with you, my love

Suil, suil, suil a ruin

Suil go suchair agus suil go cuin 

Suil go durrus agys eligh liom 

Is go te tu mo vourneen slan

I wish, I wish, I wish in vain 

I wish I had my heart again, 

And vainly think I'd not complain 

And a blessing walk with you, my love 

Suil, suil, suil a ruin

Suil go suchair agus suil go cuin 

Suil go durrus agys eligh liom 

Is go te tu mo vourneen slan

Come, come, come O love, 

Come quickly to me, softly move, 

Come to the door and away we'll flee, 

And safe forever may my darling be.

And Sarah lay still in his arms.

It was only with the approaching dawn that Jareth felt the pain flow out from Sarah body to leave her almost lifeless in his grasp. But he could feel the stubborn will to live still within her and as he lay the girl down on the bed and himself beside her, tears of joy fell from his eyes and a prayer of thanks sped its way upward.

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Unknown to the couple inside, three pairs of eyes had witnessed the night unfold. The plump Maria and her sons silently retreated from the window.

"Thank God," Maria smiled.

"That was quite a risk, mother," Carlos reproved.

"I think it needed to be done," Adrien argued. "And it worked, didn't it?"

"I'm just grateful she called on me," Maria replied. "Yes, it was a great risk, but at least I could lend my aid."

"Well, I think we can leave these two to their own devices now, can't we?" asked Carlos pliantively.

"Are you sure?" Adrien was dubious.

Maria raised a silencing hand. "Nothing is certain, my dears, but I think we can let them resolve their differences on their own, now. We should return." Two small heads nodded in unison. Slowly the pair began to glow, their forms shifting to that of young men with long white hair before changing completely into light. And just as quickly, all three vanished, erasing all memory of "Maria," "Carlos," and "Adrien" from the people of the caravan.

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Sarah awoke to find sunlight streaming through the windows. She was glad someone had the energy to shine; _she_ felt drained. Staying right where she was, on a comfortable bed feeling cozy and warm, and not moving an inch, was perfectly all right with her for the next fifty years. Fuzzily, she tried to remember why she was so tired. In the meantime, it would be worthwhile, she reasoned, to discover why her left side was warmer than her right.

She found Jareth curled up against her, his arm around her waist. A slight confused expression crossed her face, but she only vaguely wondering how he had come to be there. The question wasn't answered as the events of the night before filtered in, but that didn't seem to matter much. What mattered was that she had been able to do something. The pain had been horrible, but she didn't want Jareth to suffer anymore. He didn't need to suffer anymore.

Sarah turned to watch his sleeping face and smiled softly as her fingers traced the lines of his hand. That touch, light as it was, awakened him. His eyes blinked open.

"Sarah?" he said softly. "Sarah?" All of a sudden, he pulled her to him in a bone-crushing embrace. "You little idiot!" he whispered fiercely. "Never, never do that to me again!"

"Jareth?" Sarah gasped.

He loosened his grip to take her face in his hands. "Don't you understand, Sarah? You could have killed yourself last night! You nearly did, you bloody fool! Now promise me, promise me you'll never try that damned fool stunt again!"

"But I--" she said helplessly.

"Promise me!"

"But how can I see you hurting like that? How can I stand by and do nothing? Jareth," Sarah pleaded, raising her hand to his face, "I can't not do anything anymore."

"Sarah, Sarah," he said mournfully. "You don't understand. I am immortal. However much it hurts, I will always recover. _The pain could kill you_. By all rights, you should already be dead! And--" He paused, his eyes closing for a brief moment. When he looked up, Sarah saw so much love and pain in his eyes that she was frightened. "And I don't think I could survive without you."

"Don't you think I feel the same way?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Jareth, I discovered last night how very much you mean to me. I won't let that go," she said firmly. "And I can't change my feelings, even for you, Jareth. I'm sorry, but I can't make that promise."

To her surprise--and, somewhat, to his own--Jareth began to laugh, a deep chuckle from deep in his chest.

"I should have guessed," he said. "You, my dear, are as stubborn as a weed. And I rather think you'll get worse as you get older. But, Sarah?" He suddenly turned serious. "Please, will you at least promise me to think before you act?"

She nodded. "And you? Will you be careful?"

"I swear it," he told her, brushing the hair from her face with a gentle hand. "Thank you. Sarah."

The words came so softly and with such sincerity that Sarah gazed at him in wonder. Then his face bent to hers and nothing else mattered anymore.


	33. Objects in the Mirror

To the Victor Go the Spoils

Ahem. Hmm. Well. Now that ff.net is back up (somewhat) & I've returned from the back of beyond where there is no internet, we can expect things to be a little more frequent. I'm actually ahead! Yay! Though I meant to be finished. But then, I meant to finish this thing about three months ago. *sigh* Things are beginning to resolve themselves, but, of course, it won't be finished until everything's resolved. And then with vague ideas about sequels and omake and illustrations (just wait till I get back to my scanner!). . . I get the feeling _To the Victor_ is going to haunt me for a long time. I just hope I can get back to working on all the other stuff I have sitting on the back burner.

But enough about me. You guys want the story. Um, I'm not quite sure, but I think our theme today is _Amethyst_ by Yoshiki from X-Japan. Round up the disclaimers & brand 'em.

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 33 ~ Objects in the Mirror

The kiss was tentative, slow and sweet, everything a girl could want from a first kiss, save that it ended far too soon. Sarah felt Jareth get up from the bed with an abruptness that startled her.

"Well, that was certainly pleasant," he said coolly. "I imagine your friends are waiting for us. Shall we go?"

Sarah could barely speak. "No, uh, you go ahead. I need to get dressed." He nodded distantly and left.

Sarah sat up on the bed, still in shock from the abrupt change in Jareth's behavior. It was too much! What was she to think when, in the space of twelve hours, he had gone from polite courtesy to profound grief to hysteric concern and back to polite courtesy? What part of that could she take for truth?

Clutching a pillow, she angrily wiped the two tears from her face. Crying was not what she needed to do right now. But it was somewhat difficult when she felt like she had just been kicked solidly in the stomach. Clutching the pillow tighter, she quickly reviewed everything that had happened in the past day. She rose and dressed quickly, her mind made up. With her stubborn chin more in evidence than ever, she marched out of the room and out the front door.

She found Jareth several feet from the trailer, trying to talk to one of the men without using an interpreter. "Jareth," she called, "Jareth, we need to talk."

He turned towards her, his expression of mild interest cutting her. "I believe we covered all the pertinent topics. What more is there to discuss?"

Sarah had reached his side by that time. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she said, "This," and with no further ceremony yanked his head down and mashed her lips against his.

Sarah could sense something inside Jareth snap. He returned the kiss with a ferocity that overwhelmed her, making her feel as though she were drowning in raw emotion. She was barely conscious of his pendant digging into her chest, the fingers clutching her hard enough to leave bruises, the ninety degree angle of her neck. It was the fear, the desperation--the love--that flooded her senses and blocked out everything else. Including the whistles and cheers of over a dozen Mexican men of various shapes and sizes.

Once again, it was Jareth who broke away first, though he continued to hold Sarah in a tight embrace. Sarah wasn't entirely certain she would be able to stand upright if he let go. He stared at her, unblinking, his breath coming in hard gasps, his expression unreadable. And yet, Sarah could tell what passed behind those eyes.

"Jareth, I'm here," she said softly. "I'm real. And I'm just as scared as you are. But I promise you I will be here for you as long as you need me, for as long as you want me. Always. I swear it."

Jareth's face hardened as he pulled back, his hands gripping her arms painfully. "Do you understand nothing, girl?" he said harshly. "Forever is not something _you_ can promise! You are mortal! You are human!"

"That's what _really_ bothers you, isn't it?" Sarah spat, stepping out of his grasp. Tiny lightnings played in the air around her while the wind whipped the hair around their faces. "The fact that I'm human. I'm one of _them_. That's how I was born, Jareth, and I can't and won't change it! But you changed me. You created something neither Fae or human. I don't know what I am anymore! And that's because of you! And if you can't trust your own creation, then--" With that, Sarah ran. Across the field, between the wagons, and beyond the gypsy city.

"Nina!" Libertad, who had been standing a short distance away, ran to where Sarah had been a moment before. "Ay, Dios mio. Well," she said impatiently, "what are you waiting for? Go after her, idiot!"

Jareth drew himself up, cloaking himself in dignity. "Madam, I would kindly--" He got no further as the tiny woman raised herself up on her tiptoes and belted him over the head.

"This isn't the time for that!" she shouted angrily. "Blast me later if you want, but right now it's Sarah who needs you! Do you have any idea what could happen to her in this city, you fool?"

Jareth stared at the woman for a moment in barely disguised horror, and in the next moment vanished without a trace.

"What that boy needs," Libertad grumbled, "is a good thrashing." However, the worried expression remained on her face.

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Sarah was impulsive and often thoughtless, but the Labyrinth had cured her somewhat of both traits and, besides, she wasn't stupid. While she didn't want to return to the camp just yet, she knew that wandering around alone in a foreign city was not something she wished to do. So, though she didn't give it much conscious thought, Sarah headed towards the nearest sanctuary she could find.

It was furnished very simply, with a dozen or so wooden pews, rough statues of saints and angels lining the whitewashed walls. The crowning glory of the little church was its altar, a massive piece of intricately carved wood. It had long ago lost any gilding it had once possessed and the paint was flaking madly, yet it created an aura of majesty and reassurance and faith.

Sarah collapsed into one of the pews in the rear of the church and let the peace sink into her. Here was a place where she could let things go, let someone take her problems from her and guide her in the way she should go.

She stared at the large statue of Our Lady of Guadalupe above the altar for long minutes, then knelt and began to pray.

When she finished, she looked up, feeling more confident than she had in a long time. Standing, she took another look around before preparing to leave. It was surprising to see Jareth standing in the shadows of one of the niches in the wall, a distant gaze in his eyes as he looked towards the front of the church.

"Jareth?" she said softly.

"Sarah." Not even his eyes moved, his voice the only recognition of her presence.

"Jareth," Sarah tried again, moving towards the shadows. "Jareth, what do you want from me?"

"What do you want from yourself?" he mimicked.

"What do you want from _your_self?" she shot back.

"Oblivion," he said calmly. "I was never meant to be eternal."

"No one is," Sarah answered gently.

"Perhaps not," he agreed, "but to someone who is not a god, immortality is an uncomfortable curse."

"I knew a man once," Sarah began quietly, "who believed that forever wasn't very long at all. And I know a boy who--who valued every second he spent with the people he loved."

"That boy died a long time ago, Sarah," Jareth replied in a colourless tone.

"No. That boy was wounded, Jareth, but he isn't dead. If he was, would I have felt his pain last night?"

"That was a ghost, nothing more."

"And 'This is a crystal, nothing more,'" Sarah retorted. "Jareth, why can't you let yourself go? Why can't you let yourself heal? Don't shut me out! Don't shut yourself out!"

"Why should I?" Jareth ground out, finally turning towards her. "Sarah, you have a family. You don't have any idea what it's like to lose your father, your brothers. To lose your mother. Do you know how long I had to live with that pain before I was finally able to shut it out?"

"And do you have any idea how lucky you are to have that in the first place? _At least your mother loved you_. Mine," she turned away from him, "Mine doesn't even want to remember I exist.

"You wish I didn't exist, either," Sarah continued bitterly, wrapping her arms around herself. "If I wasn't here, you'd never have lost. You'd still be king of the castle and none of this would ever have happened. "

"Sarah. . ."

She whirled back suddenly, staring him in the face with tears streaming down her cheeks, her expression hard. "Make your choice, Goblin Lord," she said harshly. "If you wish, I'll send you back to the Underground as the Goblin King. No conditions, no limits. Everything will be like it was before. You'll never have to hear from me again. And I won't hear from you."

"Is that what you want?" Jareth asked her evenly.

"That doesn't matter," she answered. "This is about what you want."

"Why should it matter what I want?"

Sarah slumped down, her head between her knees. "God, Jareth. I'm too tired to play games with you anymore. What you want matters to me, alright? I want you to be happy. But you're playing with my heart the way you would one of those damned crystals. It--it just hurts too much, Jareth, and I don't want to hurt anymore. So if you want to go, then go. Just end it. Please."

"I hurt you," Jareth repeated softly. "_I_ hurt you?"

"Do you need a hearing aid?" she spat. "Yes, you hurt me. But, God help me, I would still ask you to stay."

"Playing with your heart?" Jareth seemed dumbfounded.

"I _thought_ you'd figured that out, Jareth. Do I need to actually kill myself this time for you to figure it out or will almost work just as well?"

"I-- "

"Just leave, Jareth," she said tiredly. "If you don't want me, then just leave me alone."

A pair of black boots filled Sarah's vision. Amazed, she looked up to find herself staring Jareth in the face.

"It has been," he began hesitantly, kneeling in front of her, "a very long time since I have allowed myself to feel anything. It has been even longer since I have loved anyone. I am not used to not having control over myself and everything around me.

"And now everything has changed. My world has no up, no down, no direction. I don't know where I am or where I'm going, Sarah. I don't know _who_ I am. And--"

"And?" she prompted softly.

He looked full into her eyes. "It frightens me, Sarah."

"I'm absolutely terrified."

"What?" Jareth was astonished.

"You think I was prepared for this?" she asked wryly. "Jareth, you were my worst enemy. Even now, I still don't know or understand you very well. I'm scared that you'll disappear or tell me you hate me or--" Her voice trailed off.

"Or what?" he said quietly.

"Or you'll just start treating me like you did before," she whispered. "Like I don't count. Like I don't exist." 

"Not very likely. Not anymore. But, Sarah, what I fear is the inevitable."

"And I told you, Jareth, that I will be here for as long as you want me. Yes, I will die one day. It may be tomorrow, it may be seventy years from now. It will not be the same, but I swear to you, Jareth, I swear that my spirit will be with you, even after death."

"How can you be so certain?"

Sarah's face became determined as she reached into the pocket of her jeans. "This is how I can be so certain," she told him, and before he could stop her, she flicked open a pocket knife and drew the blade down the length of her forearm. "I swear to you--in blood, Jareth--before God and all of his angels and saints, that as long as you want me--for eternity, if you wish--I will be with you." The blood dripped down her arm, splashing the floor. Sarah set the knife down and watched the Fae defiantly.

Jareth was awed. Only the most powerful workings were sealed in blood. And the faith she must have in him. If he didn't reciprocate, she could very well bleed to death. If she believed in her words and in him, enough to risk her own life to try to bring him peace. . .

Could he do less?

He picked up the blade. "I swear to you, Sarah Williams," he intoned formally, plying the knife against his own arm, "by Three Holy Names, Cados, Adonai, Jehova, and by the Three Names of our honored ancestress, Avitu, Kali, Lilith, I will be by your side in the fullness of eternity, bound to you by blood, by honor--and by love."

Jareth would never forget the look in Sarah's eyes as he finished the oath and clasped his arm to hers.

Neither would forget the sensation of both magic and blood flowing out and around and through them. Sarah could feel the Fae blood moving through her veins like electricity, sharp and hot. Her blood flowed through Jareth like molten metal, an all-encompassing heat. He hissed in pain, the feeling reminding him of the iron sword he had once clutched in his hands. Now his hand tightened around Sarah's arm, as she gripped his own. They relaxed as magic washed over them, the Earth magic dark and thick and real, the Fae magic clear and light, spun from dreams and imaginings.

With a suddenness that surprised them both, it was over. Except for a tingling energy that lingered, the feeling was gone. The pair stared at each other for long moments, then glanced down at their arms. The only sign that remained was a long, dark scar on each of their arms that shimmered faintly in the light.

Jareth closed his eyes. "I can feel it," he whispered, nearly overwhelmed. "I can feel the power of the Earth that you draw on. I know how to use it. I can feel the bond of my magic and yours; our magic uses them both to temper each other and extend our power beyond anything I've ever imagined. Sarah," he continued, opening his eyes to look at her, amazed, "I think we've accomplished a miracle."

She smiled weakly. "Awakening the heart of a Fae king," she murmured, "was miracle enough." With those words, she slumped back in a dead faint. Jareth bit back a curse; yet, somehow, he knew he didn't have to worry. However, Sarah had lost more blood (though there was none to be seen) and she would need to rest. Tucking the knife in his belt, he picked the girl up carefully in his arms and, with a little trepidation, disappeared.


	34. Song of My Heart's Composing

34 ~ Song of My Heart's Composing

Grr. . . So many loose ends. I could have ended it with this chapter, but nooo, I have too many loose ends wagging their little tails at me and smirking. I suppose it's my fault, but I think I'll blame the Jareth-muse. Come here, little Jareth-muse. . . I'm not going to hurt you. . . much. Anywho, the title is a line from the song _Charade_. Jareth's song is a slightly edited translation of _Khodahafez_ by Zazel/Koyasu Takehito. I've never heard the original song (though I've tried ;_; ) but the lyrics seemed perfect for our lovely couple. Round up the disclaimers and brand 'em. Oh, & I just got AIM, so if you want to IM me, I'm LadymageSamiko. Wow, what a shocker.

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 34 ~ Song of My Heart's Composing

Less than a moment found them on the couch in Libertad's front room, Jareth leaning against the arm with Sarah stretched out in front of him. He smiled and kissed the top of her head. Then, tilting his head to rest against the back of the couch, he closed his eyes for some much-needed rest.

But, as life often has it, he was not to be allowed to rest. A few seconds later, Jareth felt a hand joggling his arm. He opened his eyes to find an stone-faced Libertad crooking her finger at him. _Outside_, it said, and he reluctantly obeyed, gently extracting himself and placing a pillow under Sarah's head before following the woman outside.

It wasn't difficult to see that the old woman was not happy with him. "Estupido!" she hissed, once more cuffing him upside the head. "What in the name of God do you think you're doing!"

His eyes flashed. "Madam," he ground out. "I would appreciate your keeping your hands off my person."

"Just because you're Fae does not mean that you can do as you please," Libertad informed him.

"And what's to stop me?" he smirked. "You?"

"Who else?" With that, an aura of magic grew around her, then condensed near her hands. Jareth blinked in surprise. "You see," she said conversationally, "as a Fae, you have a lot of magic, as I'm sure you know. And alone, I couldn't even begin to challenge you. But everyone in this camp adores Sarah and since we all agree, I have no trouble borrowing power from them as well. And I can control it."

There was no doubt in Jareth's mind about that. He could feel the emotion in the air being channeled into magic and, in turn, being channeled towards the tiny woman who stood before him. She held an enormous amount of power in her hands and was playing with it almost casually. Of course, this was nothing compared to the magic he had gained from bonding with Sarah, but then, he didn't feel like leveling entire cities, either.

The Fae bowed in a formal, old-fashioned manner. "Senora Libertad," he proclaimed in ringing tones. "I fully comprehend your concern for your granddaughter and I do honor it. I promise you that, as far as it lies within me, I shall cause no harm to come to her and protect her from all other enemies. I would further ask your kindness to reach so far as to allow me to pay court to your granddaughter and, indeed, your permission that I may ask her for her hand in marriage."

With a rapidity that startled him, the magic diffused from her hands and sank into the ground. "Well," she said, smiling, "that's an entirely different situation. I take it you've finished fooling around?"

With a faint grin, Jareth straightened, then displayed the long scar on his forearm.

Everyone's eyes widened and a low murmur of talk made its way around. Libertad turned. "I think everyone knows what this means?" she asked in a loud voice.

A loud rumble answered her. Uncertain as to its meaning, Jareth looked around. He was barely able to give a smothered yelp as he was swarmed over by a mob of grim faced gypsy men.

"Abuela?" A dreamy-eyed Sarah appeared at the door of the wagon. "What's going on?"

"How are you feeling, mi nina?" Libertad asked. Jareth had already disappeared in a mass of bodies.

"Wonderful," she replied with a misty smile. "What's all the noise?"

"Just the men making a fuss, as usual," her grandmother told her. "You go get some rest, chiquita. You look like you need it."

Sarah nodded and disappeared back inside. Libertad rolled up her sleeves and set her jaw. "Pues," she said to herself, "a trabajar."

Sarah awoke to the sound of a voice in her ear and the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. "Sarah. Sarah, wake up."

"Another five minutes," she muttered, and rolled over. However, it was a narrow couch. Thump!

"Ow," she grumbled, rubbing her hip. She looked up. "Abuela."

"How are you feeling, mi nina?"

Sarah thought for a few seconds. "Wonderful," she admitted, smiling from ear to ear.

"Good," her grandmother replied, "because we have a lot of preparing to do."

"'Preparing?'" Sarah repeated, confused. "What are we preparing for?"

"Por una fiesta," Libertad said, pulling her granddaughter to her feet. "And you need to look your best for your young man, no?"

"He's not exactly a 'young' man, Abuela," Sarah remarked drily, holding her arms out as Libertad worked to remove her blouse.

"Eh. Same thing. You want to look nice, don't you?"

"Yes," Sarah answered, wondering. "I do."

"Good," Libertad said approvingly. Having worked Sarah down to her underwear and persuaded her into a plain cotton underskirt, she opened the front door. "Mujeres!" she called. Almost immediately, Sarah was swamped by women both young and old and she vanished in a welter of fabrics.

It was some time later when she was allowed to emerge. To their credit, the ladies had left quite a bit to Sarah's natural beauty, leaving her hair flowing around her shoulders, topped with a crown of tiny braids and thin ribbons, and her face bare of makeup save for some dark stuff that highlighted her eyes and lips. She wore a white satin dress, its low neckline a deep ruffle ringed with bright ribbons of purple and green. It was bloused at the wide green sash and blossomed into a full, heavy skirt, which had another wide, ribboned ruffle at the hem. Sarah tried twirling, adoring the feel of the fabric lifting around her in a wide, perfect circle. She laughed in childish delight.

One of the younger women laughed with her. "Isn't it beautiful?" she asked, teeth flashing in a smile. "We didn't have time to make a new one; this one is the one I wore for my fiesta a year ago. I'm glad it fits, though I was somewhat older." She grinned and the other women smiled at each other, as though there was a special secret.

"Thank you for letting me wear it," Sarah said, oblivious. "It's absolutely gorgeous." And it was, though far simpler than anything she usually imagined herself in.

"Okay, muchachas," Libertad's voice rose. "Let's teach my girl to dance." As everyone bustled outside, the woman drew close to the girl. "You look beautiful, mi nina," she told Sarah quietly. "I hope this evening will be the same for you."

"It's already been magical," she assured her grandmother, smiling. "But where is Jareth? I haven't seen him since he brought me home."

"The men have been getting him ready," Libertad answered glibly. "He has a lot to learn and I think Carlos Daniel is the only one who speaks English well enough." She smiled to herself. The Fae had been almost wild-eyed as he was spirited away by a couple dozen men all talking and laughing a mile a minute in Spanish. True love or not, he could certainly use a few more lessons in humility.

It was over an hour later before they finished guiding Sarah through the steps of the dance. She learned them quickly enough, but she kept asking what the dance was for and all they would tell her was that it was "for the fiesta." Even when she had fixed her grandmother with a skeptical glare, it was the only answer she got. But it seemed to be a dance for two, so she assumed she would be dancing it with Jareth.

Darkness had just fallen and Sarah was bustled back into one of the wagons and told to keep still as the women worked to fix everything that had come undone during the practice. Sarah's hair was redone, her makeup refreshed, her dress tidied. She could barely hear the noises outside over the chattering as the work was done. Feeling a little tired, Sarah just wanted everyone to leave her alone and more than once had to stop herself from telling them all to just shut up. But she would clench her teeth, close her eyes, and finger the scar on the inside of her arm. It had been a gamble, she knew. One of the quickest ways to commit suicide, she had heard, was to slit your wrists longways like that, not across. But, somehow, she had sensed that only something that drastic could wake Jareth up and show him that she meant what she said. And it had worked. And now she was so happy she wanted to shout the news aloud.

But there were several people telling her to hush and quite a few more talking so loudly, nobody would have been able to hear her, anyway.

Then, a whisper ran through the group. "He's starting. He's starting." Sarah was helped up, but stopped before she could go out the door.

". . .y aqui es la reina de esta noche, nuestra hija, Sarah!" The words sending her mind reeling in confusion, Sarah was guided out the door and down the steps.

The clearing had become absolutely magical. No bonfire was present this evening; all the light came from torches set against the wagons and trucks that surrounded it. At one end, the rich silk shirts of the men glimmered like jewels. At the other, the bright dresses of the women bloomed with color. In the center, an older man, his sash a flowing gold, stood beside her grandmother, whose matching sash glowed against her crimson dress. Her dark hair, only lightly threaded with grey, was braided into a thick coronet.

To one side, as tall and straight as a lance, his gaze as proud as Lucifer and, as it rested on Sarah, almost frighteningly tender, stood Jareth. His black trousers and boots as well as his deep purple shirt nearly faded into the darkness, leaving his face and hands startling pale.

Their eyes locked and, for Sarah, everything else became distant, remote and unimportant. He was all that mattered in her world, everything that was good and evil, ephemeral and eternal. Nothing else was wanted, nothing else was needed.

Dimly, the words being spoken made their way back into Sarah's conscious.

It was her grandmother's voice. "We are here tonight to celebrate my granddaughter's return to the caravan. But, as most of you know, we gather here for another purpose as well. Lord Jareth of the Goblin Kingdom, step forward."

Sarah looked uncertainly from one face to the next, finding no hint of what was about to happen. Still, she trusted both Jareth and her grandmother, so she kept silent as she took her place among them.

Jareth came to stand directly in front of her. She felt the magic building in and around him as he opened his lips and sang.

Heat rains upon me as I walk my road

Leading to meet you now

I want to laugh as the light pours upon me

I want to hold you and never let go, ever

The first time I looked in your eyes

They showed anxiety, dread, fear,

Certainly it must be destiny,

the words gently whispered

And I wanted to find out

I love you so completely, so much I care

Our lips pressed together, kiss me right now,

A precious warmth,

'Cause I need you

Thoughts of you changed everything

Filled up my entire soul

it must be destiny, the words mumur in number

Bewitched as if remade

Words aren't needed, tell me you love me

Your throbbing, let me feel you

I love you so much, all through the night

We'll be together forever

I love you so completely, so much I care

Our lips pressed together, kiss me right now,

A precious warmth,

'Cause I need you

Suddenly, Sarah understood. She understood the flurry of preparations, the women's comments, Jareth's "disappearance," the dance they had shown her, the reason they wouldn't tell her why. And she understood Jareth's words.

"Jareth," Sarah proclaimed, "Lord of the Underground, receive my answer." With no further fanfare or music, she began to dance.

It began fast and tumultuous, became slow and sensual, turned mysterious, returned to clarity. Sarah danced as she felt, the emotions of the last several days, of the last twenty-four hours, guiding her as she spun her way through the clearing. When finally she stopped, she was in Jareth's arms, her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. She was unable to once the fae bent down and kissed her thoroughly. Very thoroughly.

Faintly, words came through the haze. "They are promised!" cried a deep masculine voice. Cheers rang throughout and the music began, trumpets and guitars and violins. The couple found themselves pulled apart, ringed by circles of men and women. Somewhat dazed, they sought each other out in the crowds, their eyes meeting after long moments.

Jareth was mesmerized by Sarah's eyes, large and dark with the love and trust she had for him. Her arm rose as she was jostled and, though the light was poor, he could make out the glimmer of the new scar. He fingered his sleeve beneath which his own scar lay. She trusted him then and now more than she ought. Could he ever really come to deserve that faith? As their eyes met again, he knew for a certainty that he could not, but he would spend the rest of his life trying.

The beat of the music changed, becoming steady as everyone prepared for the dance they had drilled into the couple earlier that day. Sarah was on one side surrounded by a ring of women and girls, Jareth on the other with the men and boys. For several minutes, they danced alone as the gypsies circled them. Then the circles broke, melting together as Sarah and Jareth found their way towards the center. They kept perfect time, missed not a single step, though their attention was focused solely on each other. The others swirled around them in couples and groups but so intent were they that they missed the magic the others raised in a prayer for the happiness and prosperity of the new couple. They even ignored the power they themselves raised, a mix of love and hope and faith that drew them together and constructed a wall against any opposition that would dare come their way.


	35. The Morning After

35 ~ The Morning After

Hola! Not much to say today. I'm tired. I'm hoping I can finish the epilogue tomorrow before I leave to return to dorm life. No theme unless I think of one later. Round up the disclaimers & brand 'em. Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 35 ~ The Morning After

It was near dawn when the music stopped and the remains of the festivity began to be cleared away. Children begging to stay up longer had been tumbled into bed hours before. The air was cold and grey as the sounds of city life seeped into the field.

Exhausted, Sarah and Jareth supported each other as they made their way to Libertad's wagon. Half-drunk with the night's events, Jareth suddenly picked Sarah up by the waist and swung her in a wide circle, her skirts flying. Her laugh rang as freely as a little girl's and she was still smiling as he lowered her to the ground.

"You're not wearing gloves," she remarked abruptly.

"No," he said. "You've reminded me that they are scars of honor. I should be proud of them, not pretend they don't exist."

Sarah took one of his hands in her own. "Do they still hurt?"

"A little," he admitted. "But they tell me that I will never forget. For too long I have remembered my family but forgotten why they are important. I will not let that happen again."

"I'm glad," she said simply.

"Sarah?"

"Hmm?"

"Before this night is over, I want to tell you something."

She looked puzzled. "What?"

"I want to say 'Thank you.' And I want to say. . . " He paused.

"Yes?"

"I love you." His free hand moved to cover his pendant. In a brief moment, he offered his hand to her, the silver circle shining in his palm, the surface of his pendant now sleek and flat. "Here."

"Jareth. . . " She gazed up at him in wonder. "I couldn't. . ."

"It's yours, now, Sarah," he told her firmly, pinning it to her dress. "It was made for a woman who loved and was loved, by the man who loved her. It should be worn by a woman whose heart is just as full."

Sarah looked down at the silver swirls now resting amidst the ruffles of her dress and burst into tears. Awkwardly, looking somewhat uncertain, Jareth pulled her to him. After several minutes, he spoke. "Sarah?"

"Yes?" she snuffled.

"You're getting my shirt wet," he replied.

She chuckled, pulling back slightly. "Sorry."

"It's not that I mind," he said conversationally, producing a handkerchief for her, "but I really don't know what I'm supposed to do with a crying female."

"Is it that difficult to figure out?" Sarah asked skeptically.

"I grew up in a family of nine brothers! How am I supposed to know?"

Sarah nearly choked. "_Nine _brothers? Are you serious? I hope you don't expect _me_ to have that many children!"

He stared at her as though he'd seen a ghost. "Ch-children?" he gulped. "You? Us? Children?"

She looked at him sharply. "Yes, me, us, children. I wasn't planning on it immediately, of course, but I imagined it would happen at some point."

"I'd be a father? You'd _want_ to have my children?"

"No, I thought I'd ask Matt to be the father," she retorted. "Yes, your children, you idiot!"

Jareth's face slowly became a mix of wonder, terror, and delight. "I'm going to be a father" He picked her up again and began spinning. "I'm going to be a father!"

Sarah grinned wildly. "It hasn't happened yet, silly! Put me down!"

His low growl rolled down her spine. "Why don't we work on that technicality, hmm?"

Sarah's eyes widened as her heart began to race. Before she could utter another sound, Jareth was everywhere. His lips made their way from her ear down her neck. "'License my roving hands and let them go,'" he murmured, suiting action to words. Her mind felt wrapped in dreams and she could only barely notice when she began to collapse, unable to stand. Without a break in his exploration, Jareth lifted her in his arms and crossed the rest of the way to the wagon. Sarah decided to lend a helping hand and opened the door. . .

"Buenos dias, mi nina. Jareth." Libertad's voice destroyed the mood as effectively as a bucket of ice water. "I see matters are going well."

Jareth's head drooped for a moment as he carefully set Sarah on her feet. "Good morning, Abuela," she replied shakily, blushing crimson.

"Good morning, Senora," Jareth added, his face still hidden from view.

"Ordinarily," the woman continued conversationally, "I wouldn't dream of interfering. In fact, I would encourage you by my absence. However. . ."

"However," Jareth prompted dismally.

"For one thing, if you two don't want to have children within the next year or so, you might want to think about your timing. For another, I realize the age difference isn't going to change anything, but Jareth can still be arrested for statutory rape at this point."

Sarah took a step away from Jareth. "She's got a point," she acknowledged, sounding just as crestfallen as Jareth.

"Finally, I consider it simply good manners to inform a girl's parents that, at the very least, you two are dating. I don't know that telling them you're engaged is a good idea just yet. And, of course," she finished with a twinkle in her eye, "telling them you're sleeping together is definitely a bad idea."

A low rumble was heard from Jareth's direction, which rapidly developed into a chuckle. "Why is it, madam," he said, shaking his head, "that in spite of the fact that I have millennia more experience than you, you always seem to win?"

"Perhaps because I'm always right," she answered cheekily. "Now come; it's time for bed. Sorry to say, you get the couch this time, Jareth. Never tempt fate more than you can possibly help. Mija, what's wrong?" Libertad turned to Sarah, who was staring wide-eyed at nothing, her hand over her mouth.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "I totally forgot about Dad! He doesn't know where I am! He'll be worried sick!"

"Jesus bendito," her grandmother sighed. "Well, I'll go find a phone and call him. You two get some sleep." As she headed for the door, she turned back and said, "And I mean _sleep_." And she was gone.

"Well," Jareth commented, "with a family like yours, I'll be interested to see how our children turn out." Even through the teasing in his voice, the pride when he said "our children" was clear.

"It's certainly an interesting gene pool," Sarah agreed. She moved up on her toes and kissed him. She broke it off quickly. "I need to get some sleep, Jareth," she said, removing his hands. "Besides," she continued impishly, "do you really want to gamble on how long it's gonna be before Abuela gets back?"

"I'll never win," he groaned in mock despair. "I'm doomed to lose for the rest of eternity."

"You just remember that, 'kay?" Grinning, Sarah ducked into the bedroom, closing the door. Jareth sighed and, removing his boots, collapsed onto the couch.

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"My ears are still burning," Libertad confessed to them later. "Your father's never liked me very much."

"What did he say?" Jareth asked lazily. He was draped along the couch, munching on an apple.

"Well, he more or less blamed me for Sarah's disappearance and demanded that I put her on the next bus home. "

"What about me?" he asked, pouting.

"I thought it better not to mention you," Libertad told him drily. "We're in enough trouble as it is."

"What are we going to do, Abuela?" Sarah moaned. "What can I possibly tell Dad?"

"Well, Sarah, I think we can either tell him the truth," Jareth mused, "or tell him only what is absolutely necessary and lie our way through the rest of the proceedings. Either way, I imagine we'll have to go back, though we could really use more time to test the limits of our magic. And," he leered at her, "the limits of our self-control." Sarah stuck her tongue out at him. "Tut tut," he admonished, "such bad manners. You shouldn't do such childish things, Sarah. Unless you plan to use it," he added silkily.

Sarah blushed bright red.

"Couldn't you just play with time, like you did in the Labyrinth?" she suggested.

He shook his head. "Not here. My magic is still tied to the Underground, though you might be able to. But it's too complex to work with so many minds. Besides, who would remember how much of what's happened? No, time's a chancy thing to play with, and though nobody minds much about what happens in the Underground, the powers that be might get a little testy if we tried such tricks up here."

"'The powers that be?'" questioned Sarah.

"Yes. They're rather strict about keeping the dimensions in order. The Underground works on an entirely different set of rules, but around here, if you mess with one dimension, the rest of them are liable to become hopelessly knotted. As much as I love chaos, that would be a bit much. And we'd be sentenced to an eternity of hard labor."

"But who are you talking about?" Sarah persisted.

Jareth pointed up. "Need I say more?"

Sarah stared at him. "You mean _God_?" Jareth nodded once. "You actually know God?"

"Not really. They prefer to keep Themselves to Themselves, you know, and I'm hardly a candidate for divine confidante. But I have a wide aquaintance among the various Heavens and Hells and they insist on talking shop now and again. So I have a fair idea of what's going on."

"So. . . You know angels and saints and people like that?"

"Stop looking at me like that, Sarah!" Jareth exclaimed, annoyed. "I feel like I've grown horns or something. Yes! I know angels and devils and old gods, beings like that. Saints, I'm afraid, tend not to like me very much. I can't imagine why. Would you like to meet some old gods?" 

"I think I'll pass," Sarah said nervously.

"Pity," Jareth commented. "They'd certainly like to meet you. They're extraordinarily intrigued by the one person who has managed to rearrange my entire universe. But I imagine they'll drop in of their own accord at some point. They have an irritating habit of doing that. In any event, we should get back to the topic under discussion. What are we going to do?"

"I should tell them the truth," Sarah decided. "All of it. Dad, at least, deserves that much and it's not like we can't prove it. But after that. . . I don't know. Do we stay here or go back home or to the Underground? Can we marry soon or do we wait? Could we manage waiting? Or--"

"Sarah, my Sarah," Jareth murmured in her ear, having moved to the arm of the chair she was sitting in. His hands massaged her shoulders. "Calm down. Nothing need be decided immediately. Let us take things one step at a time. First, we will go to your father and tell him what has happened. I will ask him for your hand in marriage. Let us see what he says. Then we can work from there."

"He makes sense, mi nina," Libertad commented. "Go. You know how to find us now. Let us know what you decide. And remember, we want to dance at your wedding."

With a few tears and many promises, Sarah said good-bye to her grandmother and, settling herself in Jareth's embrace, she conjured a crystal. Within the blink of an eye, they were gone.

Once returned, they found much to occupy them. Sarah's father yelled and hugged and cried and yelled some more. It wasn't until much later that they could tell him their story. Then they spent more time showing him that they weren't making it up and he wasn't hallucinating. That last bit was the hardest. After that, more yelling, this time for putting Toby in danger, for putting Sarah in danger, for being an evil, kidnapping villain, etc. Then the bit about seducing girls and being a cradle-robber (in the colloquial meaning of the term). Sharp retorts that Jareth hadn't seduced anybody, it was almost the other way around. . . Karen finally ended it by shouting that it was late, and she, at least, was going to bed. Not to mention that Sarah still had school the next morning, if she was still planning on graduating, of course. With a universal sigh, the group broke up, Sarah stumbling upstairs, Jareth following. Or, at least, he would have followed except that Daniel Williams placed himself rather solidly in his way. Rolling his eyes, he retreated to the living room. Hopefully, he would be considered worthy of sleeping in a bed at some point. Conjuring a pillow and blanket, he changed into an owl and went to spend the night in the tree outside Sarah's window. Maybe it wasn't quite as comfortable, but it was much more fun. Besides, where else would he be able to keep an eye on the girl without getting into trouble?


	36. Locura de Amor or Haven't We Been Here B...

Hola, peoples

Hola, peoples. I haven't had any time to write, so I still haven't finished To the Victor, but, since I was ahead, I can still give you all the next chapter. Aren't you proud of me? Hopefully, I can get back to writing in the next few days. The last few have been busy busy and the concept of Labor Day as a holiday doesn't exist at my school. I hate early classes. In any case, the theme today is Locura de Amor by Onda Vaselina. Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 36 ~ Locura de Amor or Haven't We Been Here Before?

Morning. Zero-dark-thirty. A warm bed, comfy sheets, and an alarm clock that was beeping its little heart out. Sighing, Sarah stumbled out of her room and into the bathroom. She reemerged several minutes later to stumble back to her room. A tiny, shrill scream escaped her.

"Jareth! Don't _do_ that!" Sarah closed the door and frowned at the half-dressed fae lounging across her bed.

"Do what?" he asked innocently, stretching lazily. The girl stared.

Then, she shook her head violently, trying to rid it of the visions she was being presented with. "I don't have time for this!" she groaned. "Jareth, _please_. Get downstairs before my father finds you in here."

"Very well, my queen." Jareth stood. "But you do have time for this." He kissed her quickly and thoroughly before vanishing into thin air. Sarah moved shakily to lean on her chair.

"If that's what I have time for _now_, what'll it be like when I have _more_ time?"

_It's so nice to have clean, comfortable clothes_, Sarah thought as she flew down the stairs. She ran into the kitchen, grabbed a roll, and prepared to zoom out the door. She stopped when she noticed her father and Jareth having a glaring contest across the kitchen table.

"Uh, Dad?" she asked nervously. "Is something wrong?"

The answer, oddly enough, came from Karen. "They've been like this for the past fifteen minutes. Your father doesn't trust him, and I can't say as I blame him. You'd better grab, uh, Jareth before they start getting all masculine about it and fight each other or something. Now, scat! We'll settle this this afternoon."

"Okay," Sarah said slowly, giving her stepmother an odd look. "Jareth, you coming?"

He stopped glaring and blinked, looking slightly confused. "Of course." And before anyone could say anything, he changed to his eighteen-year-old self and transported them both to school.

"Sarah!" The girl found herself mobbed before she had moved two steps. She turned to find Lily's wide-eyed face smiling back at her. "Where on earth have you been? And what have you been doing? And why didn't you _tell_ anybody?"

Sarah laughed. "Slow down, Lil! Let me get an answer in!"

Lily took a good look at her and noticed something. "Damn, girl, where'd you get that pin? It's gorgeous! Is it real silver?"

"Of course it's real," Jareth said indignantly.

"Jareth! Hi! Looking gorgeous as usual. You gave Sarah the pin?"

Jareth nodded once. "It is a-- family heirloom."

"Wild. So, Sarah, you gonna answer my questions or am I gonna have to beat it out of you?"

Sarah laughed. "Yes! I'll answer everything! Just wait 'til the rest of the gang shows up, will you? So much has happened, I don't think I want to have to repeat myself."

"You mean I have to wait?! Sarah, you are heartless!"

Jareth commented mildly, "All evidence to the contrary, I would say. But she _is_ terribly good at torturing people."

"Jareth!" Sarah protested. "I do not torture people!"

"Yes, you do."

"Do not!"

"You do."

"Not!"

"Will you guys kiss and make up already?" Lily exclaimed, exasperated.

"Gladly," said Jareth and without further ado, swept Sarah into his arms.

Five minutes later. . . 

"How much longer to you think they can keep it up?"

"I'd say indefinitely."

"The bell's going to ring in two."

"You think they're gonna hear it?"

"I'm surprised they're still just kissing."

"They're keeping it pretty clean so far."

Jareth's hand moved lower.

"Never mind."

"Any teachers 'round?"

"This isn't a big enough audience?"

"The bell's gonna ring."

BRRRRRRRRING!

"Didn't make a difference."

"Here, let me before we all get blasted."

SPLASH! Jareth and Sarah parted, sputtering and thoroughly wet.

"WHAT IN THE SEVEN HADES WAS THAT?" Jareth roared.

"About one cubic foot of cold water," Cecilia answered cheerfully. "Sorry to break it up, but class is starting. Sarah's in enough trouble for cutting last week. Besides, I didn't think you guys wanted an audience for anything more than what you were already doing." She gestured towards the crowds of gaping (and a few applauding) students. Sarah blushed madly while even Jareth looked somewhat abashed.

"Uh, thanks, Celi," Sarah mumbled. She glanced up to see the rest of the school rapidly disappearing.

The girl grinned broadly in reply. "Before I'm overwhelmed by your gratitude, here." A flash of emerald light and both were bone dry. Now, come on, before we're all in trouble. See ya at lunch!" Celi took off across the quad.

"Guess we should do the same," commented Jareth. With a nod, Sarah flicked her fingers and brought both of them just outside the classroom door.

"Magic's pretty useful," she commented, satisfied.

As they entered the room, Jareth whispered darkly in her ear, "You have no idea."

And he smirked at her wide-eyed stare.

The day should have passed uneventfully. Beyond a few 'welcome back's and a hellish amount of missed work, Sarah was more or less ignored by the school, which wasn't unusual. What _was_ unusual was having a Goblin Lord sitting next to you who had two problems. He was bored and he was in lust. So while there were a number of highly interesting moments, it was a very, very long day.

Sarah was exceedingly glad when lunchtime arrived.

The group gathered at the same table, nearly everyone talking a mile a minute until they settled in to eat what could be salvaged. Then, they gave Sarah the floor, squeezing almost every detail of the tale out of her, though she made some rapid editing.

"You guys are getting married?" Lily squeaked. "Talk about freaky! You're only fifteen and he's-- How old _are_ you, Jareth?"

He smiled smugly. "Somewhere around three thousand, I think. I stopped counting after the first nine hundred years." They stared.

"Yeah," Lily managed to say, "definite freakish factor here."

"Congratulations," Alan said quietly.

"Felicidades," Cecilia added.

"Damn straight!" Matt exclaimed suddenly. "Come on! A toast! A toast to the soon-to-be happy couple!" Glancing wildly at his tray, he snatched his milk carton. Laughing, the other three did the same as Sarah blushed and Jareth eyed them as though they were insane. "To Sarah and Jareth!" He swung his carton high.

"To Sarah and Jareth!" they echoed heartily and drank.

"To invitations to the wedding!"

"To invitations!"  


"To permanent guest rooms in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City!"

"To permanent guest rooms!"

By this time, the laughter was uncontrollable as more and more toasts were proposed. Even Jareth had joined in, firmly convinced he was in the company of asylum candidates. And then, in the midst of the hilarity

"Welcome to the family, Jareth," Cecilia said. "We may be a bunch of insane geeks, but welcome all the same." She held out her hand. Jareth looked at her solemnly for several moments before shaking it heartily. He smiled and lifted his own milk carton for a toast.

"To permanent and most welcome guests," he proclaimed.


	37. Philosophy and Politics

I have time right now, so I decided to post

I have time right now, so I decided to post. Besides, with all that's going on in the world today, I figure we could all use something a little more trivial. Let's see. . . Kudos to WildRose04, who recognized the quote from waaay back when and double kudos to my friend Cat, who figured out what I was driving at with the characters Maria, Carlos, and Adrien. All will be revealed about them (though I hadn't intended to) in the epilogue, which is about a third done. Note: this is not the epilogue. Neither is the next part. As for the questions about Jareth's "curse shirt," feel free to use the quote. I would say just add a little "--The Goblin King" at the end. Just a suggestion. It _is_ his shirt. (Now don't you wish you had the original?) Oh! and before I forget, I've got pics on my website (www.geocities.com/ladymage_s)! Illustrations of Jareth, Libertad, and the Reshephim are up along with the story in the Labyrinth fanfic section. Go see them! Comment on them! Whatever! Have fun!

Ladymage ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 37 ~ Philosophy and Politics

It was Monday afternoon, which, for Sarah and a few of her friends, meant a free period at the end of the day. And so two o' clock found Jareth lounging on the grass in the quad with Sarah asleep in his lap. Matt sat against a nearby tree, Celi stretched out on the grass beside him, her pencil sketching rapidly.

"So what's next for you two?" she asked quietly, watching Jareth's fingers sift through the dark strands of Sarah's hair.

"It's difficult to say," Jareth replied slowly. "There is much to decide, so many paths we might take. Our magic is stable now, but we know so little about it. We need time to discover our limits. But when? Do we remain in this world or return to the Underground? There are laws here that would prevent our being together for several years, but this is where Sarah's family, where her life is. Also, one of us must return to the Underground at some point. The fact remains that Sarah has responsibilities there, now. I am perfectly willing to go myself, but she must instruct me to do so. Without her consent as Goblin Queen, I cannot enter the realm."

"How does that work?" Matt asked curiously. "You asked Sarah to put you back as Goblin King, but you were able to come back after the limit she'd put on you."

Jareth looked at him. "This world has very little magic and, consequently, no magical barriers. The very fabric of the Underground is magic, and so its barriers are very powerful, to prevent its ordinary denizens from getting out and creating havoc in other worlds, at the very least. The Fae created barriers to prevent anyone from entering the realm, with just cause."

"'I do not understand the human race,/ that has so little love/ for creatures with a different face,'" Cecilia softly quoted. "'I do not understand the human race.'"

He said nothing in reply, continuing, "Anyone with enough magic can cross out of the Underground, and anything can cross into this world, though without the level of magic of other worlds, few of us like to. But to enter the Underground, one must possess the key, which means one must be a ruler."

"What happens if you cross out of one world and cannot enter the other?"

"You must find a realm to enter," Jareth told him, "or else you remain in limbo. The Realm Beyond Worlds is an. . . unpleasant place, to say the least."

"C.S. Lewis created a 'Wood Between Worlds,'" Matt persisted. "Are they anything alike?"

"The wood exists, certainly," he replied. "But it is a world in itself, like a kingdom in the center of numerous kingdoms. The Realm Beyond is outside of the dimensions, outside of reality as we conceive it. It is a place of absolute nothingness. A place of absence."

"Sounds marvelous," came a groggy, sarcastic voice.

"And good morning to you," Jareth greeted her.

"Whatever," Sarah said as she sat up, scooting closer to him. "What are we talking about?"

"At the moment," Celi told her, "we're grilling your fae for information. But for the next fifteen minutes, Matt and I are going to go do something else."

"Why?" the boy complained. "This is getting interesting."

"And I'm sure it'll be just as interesting later. But now," Celi pulled Matt to his feet, "Jareth should discuss with Sarah that first question I asked him. Now, come on. Try to be tactful for once. Oh," she said suddenly, turning back, "before I forget. The law says you two can get married any old time you want to--as long as her parents consent. If not, I'm afraid you two'll have to wait till she's eighteen."

"Celi, how do you know that?" Sarah demanded.

"Hitoshii," the girl called as she and Matt disappeared around a corner.

"Honestly!" Sarah exclaimed. "I had no idea they were getting that serious! Now," she twisted to look at her fiance, "what was that question she was talking about?"

"You know, I don't think I'll tell you," he said thoughtfully.

"You better."

"Hmm. . ." He kept her hanging for a long moment. "All right. Cecilia wanted to know what we are going to do with our future. I told her that there are too many questions to be decided upon."

"Like what?"

"Do we want to live here, or in the Underground? Do you want to continue as the Goblin Queen, or do you want me to reign? Do you wish to continue your life here as it is, do you want to marry right away. What role do I play in your life, what role do you play in mine? There are so many roads before us. Which do we take?"

Sarah sighed. "It seemed so much simpler when we were with my grandmother."

"True. But we need to consider all of the possibilities. What do we want from our lives? What do _you_ want?"

"What do I want. . ." Sarah stayed silent for a long time. "I guess I don't know anymore, Jareth. You've made my dreams come true. I found a land of myth and magic. I've become the fairy princess. I have _you_. Somehow, it seems like the tale is ended. We've reached the 'happily ever after.' What happens next?"

"That is the one thing that life cannot hold for anyone, love," Jareth said with a half-smile. "There _is_ no 'happily ever after.' I cannot imagine being anything else from now on, but every life contains both the bitter and the sweet. The fairy tale is ended; we have played our parts. Now we begin to _live_."

"But how? What do we do?"

"Let us take one issue at a time, shall we? When do you wish to marry me?"

Sarah laughed. "I wonder why you chose that first!" she teased. He smiled, his eyebrow raised. "Well, I guess as soon as possible. I don't see why we should wait." She fingered the scar on her arm. "We're already bonded."

"Well, we agree on one thing, at least. I would imagine, then," he said, rising, "that my first task will be to win over your father. In the here and now, according to Cecilia, we need his consent. As the old-fashioned type, I would wish it in any case." Jareth extended his hand to the girl just as the bell rang. She stood, ending up leaning against him.

"I love you," she said seriously. "I want this all to go well."

"So do I, my love." He leaned to kiss her forehead. "Come, let us go home."

"Sarah! Jareth!" Lily called, waving, from across the quad. "Sarah, Mr. Cantiello wants to see you. You, too, Jareth. I just came from his class."

"About the play?"

Lily nodded. "You better hurry, though. He's ready to leave. He only stayed cause he heard you were back."

"Thanks, Lil. Talk to you later?"

"You better," Lily told her before making her way to her locker.

Looking at the students who were flooding out of the classrooms, Sarah sighed. "I guess we'd probably better walk."

"Lazy bones," Jareth teased as they began to thread their way through the multitudes of students.

"Sarah," Mr. C. began. "It has always been against my better judgment to allow inexperienced actors play leading roles. In fact, I had almost positively decided on Andrea McClellan and Grant Hazard as the leads for the play next fall. As a freshman, I felt you would be better suited playing a goblin or some other small part so you could gain experience without the demands of a large role. Excuse me, did you say something, Jareth?"

"No, I did not," Jareth answered tightly. And he hadn't said anything. He had growled.

"Now, though, having seen you and Jareth perform last week, I think you would be perfectly suited for the lead in "The Labyrinth." As long as Jareth performs opposite you. The two of you have a chemistry that is astounding at your age. . . Sarah, are you all right?"

Sarah hid her laughter with a series of coughs. "Yes, Mr. Cantiello," she choked out. "Just something caught in my throat." She studiously avoided looking at Jareth, for otherwise she would not be able to control herself. 'At your age,' indeed!

"Well. Hem. I know Jareth is not a student here, but that is my offer. The two of you in the lead or, Sarah, you can play a goblin."

"I--" Sarah stared at the short, balding man in front of her. "Jareth?" She looked up at her fiance, eyes pleading. He closed the distance between them, pulling her into his embrace.

"Cantiello," he said firmly. "Much has happened these last few days. We need time to make a decision. Sarah may or may not be returning here next fall."

"What?" Mr. Cantiello exclaimed. "Sarah, you must return! I need you for the play!"

"I would say otherwise," Jareth remarked coldly. "My impression is that while we are ideal for the roles, we are not altogether irreplaceable."

"But-- but--"

Jareth held up his hand for silence. "I did not say that we would not, only that it may not be feasible. There are many issues under consideration here, of a much more imperative nature. I believe they will be decided by the end of the week. We will inform you of our decision then. Is that clear?"

"Uh, of course," he replied uncertainly.

"Now, if you will excuse us, there are many things that must be done. Good day." With that, the Goblin Lord swept out of the room, guiding Sarah gently and leaving behind a thoroughly demoralized teacher.

"That was certainly--kingly," Sarah gasped. "You were-- You were--"

"Yes, I was. The man was belittling you, Sarah. I do not take kindly to people who underestimate or undermine my beloved. His words were uncalled for. Mine were not. I simply reminded him of his place. Your participation in his endeavors is entirely at your own discretion. Which, at the time being, is applying itself to other matters."

"Like you?" she grinned.

He gave her a quick kiss. "Like me," he replied. "Come. Let us go home and see if I can convince your father of my sincerity."

"Good luck," muttered Sarah as they disappeared from view.


	38. Give & Take

Part 38 ~ Give & Take

Okay. I can finish this. I can. It's been hard 'cause I've had a lot of work to do and I think the Jareth-muse decided to walk out on me. Just wait till I catch him again. . . On the bright side, the epilogue is 2/3 finished. And this is the last part before the epilogue. Aren't you happy? I admit I am. When this is done, I can move on to other projects that have been bouncing around in my brain, including two sequels, and a multitude of independent works. I'm hoping I can keep up the determination and effort I've put into this fic in my other work. I can only hope. . .

Anyway, I think our theme for today is November Rain by Guns n Roses. Ah, I love eighties music. . .

Ladymage Samiko ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Part 38 ~ Give & Take

"Mr. Williams, I don't know what else I can say to prove my feelings for your daughter!" Jareth exclaimed, exasperated, some time later. "I almost wish this _was_ the Middle Ages. Then you could send me on a quest or some such nonsense to prove myself! As it is, all I can say is that I love your daughter more than anything else in existence and I would ask your blessing for our marriage!" He paced the living room like a caged wildcat.

Sarah watched him worriedly. No one knew better than she how dangerous Jareth could be when he was in a temper, and his frustration was heightening rapidly.

"Daddy, _please_. I love Jareth. This is what I want. Why won't you believe me?"

Dan Williams looked soberly at his daughter. "Sarah, listen to me. You're too young to know what you want to do with the rest of your life. You don't know what love is! This--man is too old for you. He's just manipulating you, using your inexperience to make you think you love him. You'll wake up one morning to find him gone or to find out that this isn't what you wanted at all. Please understand, Sarah, I'm doing this for you."

"I suppose getting divorced from Mom was for me, then," she said bitterly. "I suppose moving, and getting remarried, and having a kid was for my benefit. I guess that's why you never even asked me how I felt about it! Because what happens in this family is all for my good, so it doesn't matter how I feel or think or what I want! I'm just little Sarah, who doesn't know anything and doesn't count for anything! My world can come crashing down and you wouldn't even notice! You didn't notice! You didn't even care!" With that, Sarah jumped up and ran out of the room.

"Sarah!" Jareth called after her. He turned to the dark-haired man sitting beside an empty chair. "Sir, your daughter is no longer a child. She is a young woman," he said grimly. "And no matter the resemblance, she is not your ex-wife. She does not make decisions lightly, does not rescind them lightly. And, in spite of everything, she loves you still. Think on that." And he disappeared.

"Sarah?" Jareth had followed his sense of her until he came to the park where she usually practiced. He found her sitting on a bench, staring at nothing. "Sarah?"

"It would be so much easier if I didn't care," she said, more to herself than Jareth. "Then it wouldn't matter what he thought of me or you. But all I've ever wanted is five seconds of approval. I guess I'll never get it."

Jareth stretched out beside her. "What is done cannot be undone," he said slowly. "I cannot say anything about what has happened before, but I know that now he is acting out of concern for you. His marriage to your mother did not end well. He wants to make sure you do not make the same mistake of marrying in haste and repenting at leisure."

"But I'm not the same person! And this is an entirely different situation!"

"I know that," he said patiently. "But your father sees your mother in you. And I, I am a dangerous unknown, millennia older and versed in arts which have long since been condemned and forgotten. Humans fear that which they do not understand." His voice became hard. Sarah leaned over to place her hand in his. "Well," he finished, an amused note in his voice, "I haven't exactly given him a good reason to trust me. Kidnapping his son and heir is not what I would call a good beginning to a relationship."

Sarah gave a watery smile. "No, I don't think so."

"I wouldn't say so, myself," a voice behind them said. The couple turned to see Daniel Williams standing behind them. "I'm sorry, honey," he continued quietly. "May I join you?" She nodded.

"It," he began hesitantly. "It isn't an easy thing to realize that your child is growing up. I guess that, all these years, I assumed you were too young to understand what was going on and that, in the end, I could decide what was best for you and that would be enough. I know it hasn't been easy these last few years, but I thought that you'd get used to it and be happy to have a mother again. I thought that was what you needed. And now," he looked somewhat sheepish, "I find that that wasn't it at all. I guess I don't know what's going on, even in my own family.

"Jareth's right. I do see a lot of your mother in you. I see it in your eyes, in your presence, in certain expressions. It worries me that you may have inherited her impetuous nature as well. I don't want to see you rush into something when you may get hurt."

"But I'm not my mother! And we're not 'rushing in!'" Sarah protested.

"You've known each other for what? a week? Magic or no, I consider that rushing."

Jareth held up his hand, halting Sarah's comment. "What would you suggest, Mr. Williams?"

"I suggest a compromise," he replied. "Wait a while, until Sarah has finished her sophomore year. As long as Sarah attends school, I see no reason why she shouldn't spend the rest of her time as she wishes, either here or in that 'Underground' you speak of. My understanding is that both of you have responsibilities there?"

"Yes," Jareth replied. "Though if Sarah wishes, I may take over both of our duties."

"Then, next summer, if both of you still want to, I will give my consent. After that, what happens is up to you, though I would like to see my girl graduate from college." He smiled at his daughter.

Sarah launched herself into her father's arms. "Thank you, Daddy," she whispered.

He hugged her tightly. "I'm always proud of you, my girl, remember that."


	39. Epilogue ~ The End of The Beginning

Epilogue ~ The End of the Beginning 

Wow. It's the end. I had all this stuff I wanted to say, and now I can't remember any of it. I guess I'm just amazed that I've reached this point. After over seven months of writing, To the Victor is finally finished. And you have no idea what a great feeling that is, to look at nearly 120 pages of writing and know that it's _yours_ and it's complete. And now I send it out into the electronic world. Since this is the last part, I don't want to play favorites, but I will say thank you to everyone who wrote reviews and e-mailed me. If I don't reply, it's only that I'm extremely lazy; I read and appreciate everything you guys have written. Thanks also to the other Labyrinth fic writers. Both you and my reviewers add fuel to the fire and keep me going. Finally, to my friends, who have put up with my quirks and my pestering. You know who you are.

My mood today tells me our final themes are _All Souls' Night_ and _Samhain Night_ by Loreena McKennitt. Enjoy.

'Til I Write Again,

Ladymage Samiko ;)

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To the Victor Go the Spoils

Epilogue ~ The End of the Beginning

It was easy to see that pride in Daniel Williams' eyes as he took his daughter's arm over a year and a half later. She smiled brightly back at him for a second before turning her attention to the swell of music and placing her feet one in front of the other without falling flat on her face.

For both her and Jareth, the time leading to this moment had passed alternately on wings of wind and feet of lead. However, they used it wisely, coming to understand their magic and themselves more deeply than even they had thought possible. Libertad taught both the essence of Earth magic, leaving Jareth with a profound admiration for this place and the people who could harness its power. Sarah, in turn, was impressed with the ease and offhand manner with which Jareth handled Fae magic, given its strong and capricious nature. As they blended the techniques of both to use their own unique power, they sought its limits. Finding none, they set limits for themselves. Many of the incidents involved in their journey are, in themselves, insignificant, but there are perhaps two incidents which deserve our attention.

It was early one morning when Sarah was awakened by her father, who told her that she and Jareth had guests at the front door. Puzzled, Sarah quickly dressed and ran downstairs, where she found a middle-aged Mexican woman and twin boys sitting on the couch.

"Uh, hello," Sarah stammered. "Have you come from the caravan?" It felt like she _almost_ recognized them, but couldn't quite place them.

The woman smiled with all the warmth of a mother. "Not exactly, my dear, though we did meet there. I am Maria, this is Carlos and Adrien."

The truth suddenly dawned on Sarah. "Of course! I remember now! I have to admit, I hadn't expected anyone from the caravan to visit."

At that moment, Jareth entered the room, running his hand through hair absentmindedly. "I heard we had company?"

"Good morrow, Jareth," Maria said, while the twins both cocked their heads to one side and said, "Morning, cousin!"

The Fae nearly jumped out of his skin. "Holy bloody hell!" he exclaimed. "What in--?!" With an effort, he regained at least a modicum of his usual composure as Sarah stared at him in bewilderment, Maria smiled, and the twins giggled like mad. "I beg pardon. But why on earth are you here?"

"Jareth?" Sarah was still confused.

He smiled wryly at her. "Do you remember when I asked if you wanted to meet some old gods?" She nodded. "Well, we have a little more than I bargained for. Sarah, these two imps are the Reshephim, Reshep and Resheph, if you can tell them apart. They were gods, but now they are heralds for the All-Powerful." The two grinned and bowed, gradually regaining their customary shape. Sarah gaped at the suddenly tall, dark-skinned, silver-haired young men standing in her living room, staring back at her with white-hot eyes.

"Er, nice to meet you," she choked out.

"And this," Jareth continued. "is the Lady Mary."

"Jareth," the woman chided softly. "Can't you do any better than that?" He shrugged elegantly, then leaned up against the wall.

"I did not ask you to come. Nor did I request your interference."

"Jareth! As though I would leave one of Lilith's children to fend for himself! I know you're older, more experienced, and wiser in a number of ways than I am, just as Lilith is, but does that mean I can't mother you from time to time?" She walked over to the Fae, placing her hand upon his cheek. "I like to see all of our children happy," she told him quietly. "Too many times I am not allowed to interfere. Would you deny me of one of the few when I can?"

"Could I even if I wanted to?" he asked, smiling. "Sometimes I think you just have the soul of a busybody, Mary."

She giggled, an unexpectedly girlish sound, and slapped him lightly. "Be nice, my boy. Didn't anyone ever teach you that it is easier to charm girls?"

Sarah's brain, as much as it resisted, was finally making a few connections. "Mary?" she squeaked. "As in 'Hail Mary, full of grace?'"

"Of course, my dear," she smiled. "I--" She was unable to continue as Sarah quietly sank to the floor in a dead faint. "Oh, dear."

Sarah returned slowly to consciousness, first noticing the deep rumbling next to her ear, then the resonance of words.

"No, no, and again, no! Absolutely not!"

"But cousin. . . !"

"Why not?"

"For one thing, I don't trust either of you any further than Sarah could throw you. For another, I already have a best man and an groomsman. I don't need anyone else." Hmm. . . that warm, rumbly tenor. . . Jareth again. Sarah settled herself a little more closely, feeling Jareth's arms tighten around her in response.

"Silly idea, having only two attendants."

"Why don't you have an Underground-style wedding?"

"Sarah and I have waited nearly a year already," Sarah could just see his eyebrow raised and a mocking twist to his lips. "I don't think either of us feel like waiting an entire month just to go through an Underground ceremony."

"A whole month?" Sarah exclaimed, her eyes opening wide as she sat up. She felt a little dizzy. "An Underground wedding takes a month?"

"Only after the guests arrive," Jareth answered drily. "How are you feeling?"

"Um, all right, I guess. Sorry, I wasn't expecting to actually meet. . ."

"It's perfectly fine, my dear," Mary interrupted. "I'm used to it. I felt the same, once upon a time, and Gabriel is a _much_ more impressive figure than I am."

Feeling dizzy again, Sarah decided she'd rather not know. "So, uh, what is everybody arguing about?"

Mary laughed, the sound filling the air with warmth. "These two rogues of mine want to be a part of your wedding. And Jareth doesn't believe they will behave themselves."

"Will they?"

"If I order them to," she answered placidly.

"Would you. . ."

". . .stop talking about us. . ."

". . .as if we weren't here?"

"No," Jareth told them. "So why don't you two run back to whatever little hole you came from so we can continue the conversation?"

"Jareth!" Sarah exclaimed.

"I think. . ."

". . .it just irritates you. . ."

". . .to know someone knows more than you do."

"Please, Jareth," Mary said softly. "Let us be there for you. A wedding is a day for family."

Jareth sighed, though a smile crept onto his face. "Very well. . . though I'll probably regret it."

And so there were three more additions to the wedding party: a silver-haired groomsman (who seemed to be having quite a good time joking with his fellow groomsman, Matt), a young ringbearer with a surprisingly strong resemblance to the groomsman, and a demure, middle-aged woman in the place of honor as the mother of the groom.

The next episode takes place in the Underground, and involves someone who was unable to come to the wedding, though very much welcome. . .

It was still several months to the wedding. Sarah and Jareth had traveled deep into the Labyrinth, taking a little time to let the happiness and well-wishing of the maze seep in. Finally, they reached their destination, a small clearing, filled with roses, heather, thyme, and a variety of other plants, all of which blended together in an unusual, but gorgeous mix. In the center of the wild mass was a small, white stone engraved simply with the word "Philip."

Sarah took Jareth's hand. "Philip?" she called hesitantly. "May we speak with you?"

When the spirit walked out from the tangle of flowers, he seemed more substantial than he had on that night so many months ago. A broad, happy smile greeted them. "My most sincere congratulations to both of you," he said. "And blessings on your union."

"Then," Sarah said hesitantly, "you approve?" She felt Jareth tense beside her, fighting the urge to fly far and fast.

"Of course I do," he replied, moving to stand before them. "I love you both and I know you will be happy together. That's all I've ever wanted. Jareth."

The Fae's features were drawn, old. "I-- I can only say that I am sorry, Philip. And that I wish our encounter had turned out differently. There is nothing I can do to repair what has passed."

Philip held up his hand for silence. "Enough, Jareth. What has happened is in the past. I understood you and loved you enough to forgive you centuries ago. Let it go."

Jareth gave a half-hearted grin. "You were far too good for me, Philip, and far too forgiving. You still are, you know."

"I cannot change my nature any more than you can, Jareth." He smiled. "But I would ask one favor."

"Anything, Philip ap Meredith."

"I would be the one to hand your first-born into your arms." His eyes shone.

"I can think of no one I would be more honored to have."

"Nor I, Philip," Sarah agreed softly. "Thank you."

"May the Lady bless you and your years together," Philip answered just as softly, fading into Labyrinth.

Philip's blessing followed them, but seemed to have no effect on the chaos of the wedding day itself. Though it was a small wedding, everything seemed to get lost and everyone was underfoot. At least half a dozen people--if not more--were fussing over Sarah, trying to make sure she remembered everything and every hair was in place. Everyone was speaking at the same time, so the air was filled with a confusing mix of English and Spanish.

At the request of the bride, and with a sigh of relief, Cecilia made her way to the rooms where the men were getting ready. Compared to the women's rooms, this area was almost paradise. The men who weren't a part of the ceremony lounged around the walls, laughing and joking at the antics of those who were, namely Matt and Alan, who were trying to figure out how to fix their cravats.

Jareth was fully dressed and preening in front of the mirror, ignoring the ribald jokes being tossed his way.

Catching a glimpse of the dark-haired girl in the mirror, he turned. "Are they ready?" he asked, his haste, if not his voice, betraying his nervousness.

"Hardly," Celi answered wryly. "Sarah's got several people fussing over her making sure she is ready. That's going to take a while."

"How does she look?" he asked wistfully. At Sarah's request, Jareth had not even glimpsed the wedding dress.

"You have to ask?" Cecilia smiled. "She looks beautiful," she assured him. "Radiant."

That seemed to relax him. "And how do I look?" he asked her, striking a pose and smirking.

Her lips curved in a smirk of her own. "Like Jane Austen's version of _Playgirl_," she answered saucily. "Get those two's cravats done and I'll go tell them you're ready." She slipped out, leaving the fae speechless in her wake.

Sarah was inclined to agree with Celi's assessment as she gazed at her love down the long church aisle. An off-white cravat flowed over a black silk waistcoat and blue velvet jacket. Off-white silk breeches tucked into high black boots. Blue eyeshadow and black highlighted his eyes, which shone as she walked down the aisle. He smiled, and was absolutely breathtaking.

Jareth was no less impressed with the beauty of his queen. Her features were radiant, framed by a small bandeau of hair topped by a simple orange blossom crown, a veil covering her waves of hair behind. Her dress was reminiscent of one he had seen her in a long time ago, though simpler, less showy. The puffed sleeves, straight-necked bodice,underskirt, and train were plain silk of an off-white shade to match his own suit. The overskirt was a thick, creamy lace. And in the center of the neckline shone the silver brooch that his father had made for his mother so very many centuries ago.

And then Sarah reached the altar and together they knelt before the priest.

Afterwards, both Sarah and Jareth would admit to not remembering a second of the ceremony that followed. From the time they knelt to the time the priest said, "You may kiss the bride," all was a blur. And then Jareth did kiss his bride, creating one of the most vivid memories either would carry for the rest of their lives.

And, of course, having kissed her once, he was forced to kiss her twice. This trend might have continued, except that their attendants, whom they had always before assumed to be their friends, intervened, forcing the two apart and back down the aisle. Jareth glared amiably at their grinning faces before taking Sarah's arm and leading her down the aisle and out of the church.

The Goblin King was sorely tempted to simply vanish into the Underground with his bride, but he had been threatened with death and, more importantly, with permanent exile from his wife's bedroom if they did not attend the reception. With an apologetic smile, Sarah whispered, "Don't worry, I'm sure it will be fun." He gave her a pained look and she giggled.

The reception, Jareth said later, was. . . interesting. There was a traditional dinner and dancing, with the gypsies providing the music. Mary and Libertad seemed to be deep in conversation, while the Reshephim (who _had_ behaved themselves as promised) joked around with Matt, Alan, and Lily. Sarah's father and Karen tripped over their feet trying to dance to the Mexican music. Cecilia was almost enitrely engrossed with Hitoshii, though not enough to miss what was happening. The fun and games began with the wedding cake. Jareth was so busy gazing into his wife's eyes (and still trying to believe that she was actually his _wife_) that he managed to get frosting over nearly half his face. He started turning red, but decided he could live with it when Sarah kissed it off for him. Then everyone else started turning red.

"Shameless woman," he whispered.

"Damn straight," she mumbled back.

"Come on!" one of the Reshephim shouted. No one was sure which one. "Share the fun!"

The cry was taken up by the rest of the crowd. Both Reshephim (now identical again) grabbed Sarah and blindfolded her. Then, they explained the rules. One by one, the men of the party would kiss Sarah on the cheek. The trick was for Sarah to guess which one was Jareth.

Matt, Alan, Hitoshii, the Reshephim . . . No fooling Sarah. But then, Jareth didn't get it right, either. Finally, as a joke, Reshep lifted Toby up to kiss her. She nodded; this was Jareth. When everyone burst out laughing, she lifted the blindfold to find Toby grinning at her! Sarah laughed along with everyone else while Jareth pretended to be hurt. It took quite a few kisses to make up for that little mistake.

After a few more games, Sarah threw her bouquet. To no one's surprise, Cecilia caught it. Then, Jareth threw the garter, which got lost in the melee as the men scrambled for it and ended up knocking over a table full of food. When everything was sorted out, Alan was left standing there, blinking at the small scrap of white fabric in his hands. Given his sexual preference, everyone else was bewildered as well. He shrugged.

"Another mystery to solve," he said quietly, standing up. He grinned. "I'll be very interested in solving it."

Matt whooped. "You go, Alan!" he shouted. The rest of the party cheered.

Jareth took the opportunity to steer his bride to a hidden corner of the room. "Happy?" he asked softly, voice almost covered by the noise of the festivities.

Sarah gazed at him mutely, then nodded. "Overflowing," she whispered. "Thank you."

"For what?" he looked at her, surprised.

"For saying, I do,'" she answered.

Jareth pulled her close and, bowing his head, said softly, "Nonsense. Don't you know I was being entirely selfish?"

She pulled back a little to look him in the face. "What?"

"How else was I going to be able to do this?" he asked, kissing her thoroughly. "And this." His lips moved further down. "And this?" His hands joined in.

"Jareth!" She tried desperately to push him away. "This isn't the place!"

"No, I suppose not," he sighed, in between kisses. He pulled away, leaving Sarah feeling a little lost. Then he grinned wickedly. "Now why don't we go someplace that is?" he suggested.

He blinked in astonishment as Sarah practically pounced on him. After an extensive embrace, she breathed, "Why don't we?"

And all that remained of the newly-married couple was a dusting of glitter and a feeling of magic in the air.


End file.
